Daddy Daycare

I have refrained from blogging about my latest undertaking because I am a bit nervous, and I have zero confidence in myself to be successful. However, to put this evening into perspective I will have to fess up.

I have gone back to school. Not with any wild fantasies of a new career, but more to see if I can transfer all of my credits from my fifteen schools to one place and see what it gets me. I am only taking one night class this semester, Intro to Archaeology. Please hold your laughter. I figured if I had to go back to school for the first time in a LONG time I might as well have an in house tutor.

I am actually quite enjoying my class, and although I am a little nervous about the paper I have due next week, so far so good. At least until I walked in the door tonight.

Our family life is fairly structured. We get up at the same time, we eat dinner at 6pm pretty much every night, and the kids go to bed at 8pm on the dot. It may sound a bit boring, but it works for us. So, I ask you, why would Cool Dad choose tonight, a school night to completely go off the deep end. I am grasping at straws here, but maybe when you have been so sick for so long that when you go to the doctor and they say, "Wow we haven't seen sinuses this bad in a long time. We are going to have to give you a shot to start taking care of this." Maybe that affects the brain. That's right folks, Cool Dad had to get a shot in the keester this morning, and that apparently clouded his judgement.

Tonight at 9pm I came home to two small children and one large one, not only not in bed, but on my bed watching a movie. A scary movie. Bubba was under the covers screaming, "I can't watch this, it is too scary."

WHAT?? Who in their right minds lets small children watch scary movies ever, let alone on a school night an hour past their bedtime? Cool Dad tried to argue it wasn't a scary movie, it was just Indiana Jones. I referred him back to the small child huddled in the corner screaming. "I am so scared."

Don't even get me started on the kitchen disaster. Cool Dad's excuse, "It was kind of a confusing evening." Confusing, as in confused who you are, confused by small children, confused by reality.

I think I better go to bed and deal with it all tomorrow. At least I will sleep well in my king-sized bed all by myself. Guess who is sleeping with Bubba?

I will leave you with a non-scary picture of my little Indy. As I try to think happy thoughts so as not to hurt Cool Dad.