9:13 a.m. - August 24, 2006
I don’t know exactly what she will be doing, but I think some of the plan involves a movie, some Starbucks, shopping and other girly things. That means I will be taking care of Katie and Kristin on my own for an entire day.
I think it will be a fun daddy and daughter day. I think a trip to the library is on the docket, and possibly a playground (depending on the weather – it’s supposed to either be hot and / or thunderstormy). I’ll probably go to the grocery store to get something to bake with Katie, and make sure Kristin is very well napped, fed, read to and changed.
But I know exactly what I will not do on Saturday. In fact, I’ve made a list:
• I will not teach Katie the words to the song “Orphans” by Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, with the express intent of her singing it at pre-school. Somehow, I don’t think a song about running in the bloody snow is what they’re going for in the curriculum.
• I will not experiment with plutonium. Well, at least not without encasing the girls in lead. Oh, but then I have to be sure that Kristin doesn’t eat the lead. So, I guess my plutonium research is off this weekend. Sorry, Dr. Evil.
• I will not invite the local meth cooker to set up shop in my basement.
• I will not drive with the girls to the Oriental Massage place in Danville, Illinois, even though with the ad from Nuvo it’s $10 off a one hour massage.
• I will not encourage Katie to perform moves from the Ultimate Fighting Championship on her sister.
• I will not teach Kristin curse words. I think she needs to be at least two for those.
• I will not turn on the Spice Channel while the girls are awake.
• I will not allow a pyromaniac to juggle torches in the house.
• I will not teach Katie how to belch the alphabet.
• I will not teach Katie the proper techniques for drunken dialing, including the phrase: “NO! I’m not drunk. I was just thinking about you, that’s all…”
• I will not watch the Chicago Cubs with the girls. Their childhood is supposed to be a happy time, with fond memories, and I don’t need them to see pain, suffering, anguish, angst and enough bad baseball to lead a man to John Barleycorn.
• I will not allow my daughters to listen to Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Well, except for “Lucky Man”.
• I will not eat green eggs and ham. I will not listen to Samhain. Or Danzig, for that matter.
• I will not answer Katie’s questions on life with an indifferent grunt or fart.
• I will not fail to change Kristin’s diaper.
• I will not read the “Casual Encounters” page from Craigslist out loud to the girls, especially not the ones from Chicago, New York, or San Francisco.
• I will not teach Katie the split-fingered fastball. Her arm is still developing and learning that pitch could lead to elbow troubles, and then she’d have to have a ligament transplant before the age of 10.
• I will not allow the girls to watch “The O’Reilly Factor” or “Hannity and Colmes”. Heck, Fox News is going on the restricted list.
• I will not get in the car, and tell the girls that “we’re going to see how fast daddy can get to Iowa and back.”
• I will not plop the girls in front of “Go, Diego, Go” while I call my “special” 1-900 number.
• I will not try to domesticate a wombat.
See, I know what I’m doing here!