The Awesomest Dad Ever! ... Sort of

You ever have one of those days that you can feel is going to be great with every fiber of your being?

Have you ever had someone try to help you out and after a lot of work on their part they only succeed at making a lot more work for you?

I had a big day last week.

I woke up and rolled out of bed and stretched. Today was going to be a great day. I was up before the kids which in itself is doing good. I made a cup of coffee and sipped it as I checked the beacon of communication that Western Civilization is founded upon. Facebook.

If it tells you how saucy I felt, I set my Facebook status to, "I'm calling it. Its a get stuff done day." That's right. I called the day out and told it to bring it. I'm a stay at home dad! No, check that, a Stay At Home DAD! I was ready to earn the capital letters in my title. And earn them I did.

In a nutshell my morning consisted of making a full breakfast for the kids, no shortcuts for Superdad, emptying and reloading the dishwasher, mowing the lawn, and cleaning up the toys and vacuuming the den. If you're thinking that sounds like a big morning, you're very right. Normally I would call that a big DAY. I won't lie. But for whatever reason I had a bug up my butt and I was going to be awesome!

Among all of the stay at home parents there is a story, nay a LEGEND of a mythical beast to be caught and tamed. A creature so rare to even think its name and breathe is to scare it off and jinx your plan. The unicorn of the stay at home profession is none other than the afternoon nap.

Not for the kids... For the Parent.

The problem is that everyone thinks as a stay at home parent, daily naps are a given. If you think that, you are completely incorrect. Kids do stuff. All the time. Naps take planning, luck and skill. Think of the opening scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark. You are Indiana Jones, the nap is the golden idol and the kids who are a little too quiet are the poison darts, sinking pedestal and giant rolling rock of impending doom. Also, those guys outside with the spears and arrows. The "restless native" imagery is surprisingly accurate for young children.

Matter of fact, all us stay at homes need to stick together. I say we institute Fight Club rules. The first rule about the midday nap is you do not talk about the midday nap.

I have mentioned Quiet Time before. It is that magical time of silence in the house midday. I had run both kids ragged so all they wanted to do was sit in their room. Without thinking about it (cause to think is to jinx, remember?) I grabbed a pillow and hit the couch.

I remember a large percentage of my dreams. In this dream I was receiving an award for the best Dad, of all times, EVER! I wish I could draw so you could see the trophy they gave me. It was about the size of the Stanley Cup, but rather than rings of names this had a mountain of other dads. One side was guys who had been the Best Dad of all Times, Ever the other side was loser dads who wanted to ME the Best Dad of All Times, Ever. I distinctly remember seeing Philip of Macedonia (Alexander the Great's dad) and Ron Perlman (I don't know if he is a dad but he's awesome) on the good dad side. And on the bad dad side I remember seeing Darth Vader, and Bad Blake from Crazy Heart. The coolest part was that all the dads were moving. The statue was like a photograph from Harry Potter's newspapers. The good dads were all cheering and the bad dads were all saying how they weren't that bad. I woke up having spoken with Darth Vader for a while on the merits of parenting.

Needless to say. I should have taken the dream as being awesome and moved on.

I did not.

I decided I was gonna rock the party and be truly the Best Dad of all Times, Ever.

But how could I do this? I needed a real clencher to put the icing on the cake. I knew CA would get home and be excited the lawn was mowed and the house was still standing. I wanted to REALLY knock her socks off.

I marinated some chicken and tossed it in the rotisserie. Would Dinner be enough? Of course not. One of our dogs is a Yorkie. CA had been mentioning for a few days that we needed to shave the dog. This is a CA job, not an RK job. I assist when it comes to dog haircuts. Had I ever shaved a dog before? No. Had I watched kids while shaving a dog alone? Also, no. Did I have any idea how much of a mess I was going to make? Very much, no. But I thought, "I shave my own head all the time and how much different can it be, really"? Answer? A lot.

Ginger, the yorkie, was accepting of her fate. We had a couple days of ridiculously hot weather and I think she knew I was trying to help her out. I grabbed the clippers and put her in the bathtub. I couldn't find the guards for the clippers and rather than facing logic decided I could make it work. This is henceforth known as mistake number one.

I trimmed the first side really quickly and easily. She wanted to lay in that side so it helped. It didn't look great, but it didn't look bad. I was easily going to win the argument that she looked overall better. Then the kids came running in. I needed a quick fix to buy me some time to finish the dog's haircut. I gave the kids a snack and set them at their picnic table on the porch in the shade. Because I'm so awesome I gave them fruit and juice. No crappy unhealthy snacks for my kids! Mistake number two.

I reacquired the dog and went to work on the other side. This proved more challenging since she didn't want to lay on that side, or remain in the tub where the kids with snacks weren't. With most of her body, and none of her head done the kids arrived. Cherries, oranges and juice get wicked sticky.

You know how you think octopus suction cups would feel? I felt a small hand on the back of my neck and it attached with that same SMACK of suctiony attachment. As I felt this I turned and saw the Daughterchild, who had removed her shirt, spilled cherries all down her front, allowed it to partially congeal and was grinning ear to ear, proud of her achievement.

I don't think I screamed but I know I jumped. This startled The Boy who had snuck up on my other side to see what I was doing. He jumped back and hit a bucket of bath toys that had water in it. The bucket and toys and water, with all the grace and silence of a falling jazz band landed in the tub with all the cacophony you would expect.

Ginger was not amused.

The now wet half shaved dog did her best to jump from the tub and make a run for the door.

I caught the dog and because she was wet shaving her further was impossible. I washed her and cut her loose. I cleaned the tub and tossed the two sticky incarnate children in the tub.

CA got home as I got the kids out of the tub. And we met in the kitchen.

To my horror, before finding me and swamp monstering my neck, the kids had taken out all the previously put away toys.

CA's first words. "Hey baby, I saw the dog. She looks cute-ish. What do I smell? Is something burning?"

"Yeah, its dinner cause I'm awesome."

Good news is that dinner mostly wasn't burnt and the house cleaned itself up pretty easily. Also, from a distance the dog looks cute. You can't see the bald spots or the missed spots that look like she has an extra leg. As evidenced by the photo above.

While I may not be a candidate for Best Dad of all Times, Ever; I feel I made good progress on the day. I figure with all award shows out there, there's always next time.