Welcome Home

Before I got home from work today I already knew that my wife’s day had been rough. She had filled me in at lunch, so I was aware that the baby was grumpy and had only slept an hour all day. Naturally it came as somewhat of a surprise when I got home and was greeted by his bright smile. “Here you go,” my wife said as she handed the happy baby off to Daddy. “He needs you.”

“But he looks happy,” I replied. It was as I reached out to grab the boy that I realized why he needed Daddy. The evidence was oozing out the back of his pants. “Oh, I get it,” I said.

“At least he will be happy now,” she said. “I think that was what he’s been working on all day.” To be honest, I did take the child and got busy on the dirty work, but this job actually required both of us in order to get it done without damaging the house. It was that messy.

Just as we wrapped up the blowout, my daughter decided to wake up from her incredibly late nap. Waking up, however, involved some sort of bad dream and a lot of tears and clinging to dad for about a half hour. Welcome home.

Now fast forward to later in the evening. My wife clearly needed a break before dinner, so I sent her out to do some therapy shopping (for on-sale necessities only) while I prepared dinner. (Again, I have to be honest. Dinner was leftovers, so don’t give me too much credit. Oh, wait. On second thought, the leftovers consisted of the chicken that I had barbecued over the weekend, so I guess I do get some credit after all.)

Keep in mind that I had been gone for the whole day at work and what greeted me? A diapular blow-out and a clingy, fussy child. What does Mom get when she returns home from a one hour shopping trip? Well apparently it all depends on what you bring home. Her loot consisted only of some boring basics like milk, soap, and shampoo, but it was enough to bring delight to a child’s eyes.

“Oooooh! Look at the shampoo! Mommy got it for us,” my youngest daughter shouted out as she held the bottle up high and paraded around the house. “Can we take a bath?”

“Yeah well I worked hard so she could buy it,” I sighed. Despite my lame efforts to take some of the credit, the parade marched on with no mention of Daddy. Excitement oozed from every square inch of of my daughter’s body as she paraded up and down the hall singing the praises of Mommy and the shampoo. How is it that Mom got to be greeted by oozing excitement and Dad was welcomed home with other oozing matter?

Some things in life just don’t quite seem fair.