At My Door

Please don't get the impression by reading this that I am hiding from my children. I'm currently in my bedroom with the door locked and not daring to utter a single word or make a sound. I'm afraid to move in bed because the sheets might make to much of a noise.

But I'm not hiding because they are outside the door right now banging on it to be let in. They even have some of their creepy stuffed animals that make noises. I can hear a horse galloping every so gallantly until the batteries start to crap out and it sounds like a muffled gunshot, which it could very well be. I feel that I have written enough about Little Hoss to show that she is a very destructive daughter. I love her but she's not happy until something is smashed.

My only option at this point is to trick them. They know I'm in here but my plan is to make them forget, to question themselves. Sure, they may have seen daddy go in here but nobody is answering the door. Maybe he went out the window. Let's go bug mom and find out. God willing.

It's not that I don't love my kids and enjoy spending time with them, I very much do. But I've been sick for the last day and a half and they don't seem to understand that dad is sick. So they continue with their normal routine which half the time is jumping on me. I'm either going to puke or poop the next time someone jumps on my stomach. Either way, I wouldn't want to be anywhere near me.

That's the one thing about this stay at home dad gig, no benefits. Sure, you get no pay but you are prepared to deal with that. You understand that going in. But what you don't seem to realize is that you never get a day off. With one income, you have to protect that income. And if that means I still parent when I'm sick because Hossmom has meetings and work, then that's what it means.

In times like these, I turn to my good friend Diego the Animal Rescuer. I pop that on the TV and let the kids zone out until pigs fly while I sit on the couch cursing every runny nose that I cleaned up this week. When you are around kids all day ever day, you catch more germs than you used to. This is mainly due to the fact that they think that the toilet is a toy and I have to clean everyone up when I discover the carnage that has taken place.

My only refuge is when Hossmom gets home and I can try and hide and sneak away. They love their mom very much, but let's face it, Dad's the bomb. He throws, he wrestles, he let's them eat potato chips for breakfast on occasion. If you were 3 years old, how could you not love that guy. The downside is that when Hossmom comes home and they get their loving from her, they want to again play with dad.

I don't mind this usually but when I'm sick I don't want to be repeatedly punched in the balls. Now that I think about it, I never want to be punched in the balls.

Now they are crying outside my door. My instinct is to open it and see what's wrong but that would imply that I care right now, which I most certainly don't. I figure that as long as they got both eyes and all ten fingers, they can work out what's wrong between the two of them.

Until then I'm going to surf the net for tribal remedies for the Niagara Falls of snot.