Daddy’s are Superheroes

I heard a quote once that went something like this,

Guilt is to Motherhood what rain is to Seattle, it’s just the prevailing weather.

I won’t bore you with all the details but I was having a bad day due to the possible onset of yet another baby ear infection and Boston’s recent promotion as a professional two year old. I had reached the end of my rope.  The end of my rope is not a pretty picture, but let me illustrate anyway.

I’m using the bathroom while I hear Isaac let out a scream that could only mean one thing…Boston.  Not left with many options I choose to yell at Boston until I can get out of the bathroom (cue rain, I mean guilt).  Once I get out of the bathroom I continue to scold Boston loudly (low point).  Boston responds with, “aaaaahhhh” and like any good Mom would do, I reply back with, “aaaah” (sinking lower).  With a look of shock, (because believe it or not I don’t typically whip out this awesome parenting technique…the scream like a two year old one) Boston screams out, “I want Daddy”.  I exclaim, “I want Daddy!” and with the most hardcore stare I have ever received from a child Boston states in a bold, confident voice,

My Daddy.

Touche Boston.  Touche.  I call Daddy (what now Boston?!) and ask when he’ll be home.

40 minutes.

Uhhh, that sounds like a death sentence.  Now if Daddy’s are Superheroes then sisters are their sidekicks.  I call my sister and confess all my Mommy sins and she tells me she’s been there. I’m starting to feel better.  See what I mean? Sidekicks.  Every husband needs his wife to have a sister.

For the last 20 minutes before Dane arrives, I hold Boston and we just stand there, waiting for Daddy to come home.  The Garage door opens and all of a sudden it’s like a scene from the end of every Superman movie.  You know the one, where strangers are cheering while hugging in the street among the city wreckage, with tears streaming down their faces as they watch Superman swoop in to save the day.   That was me and Boston.  No kidding.  We hugged and cried all while hysterically laughing and cheering,

Daddy’s home!

And as if Dane’s presence wasn’t enough, upon seeing his family in such a desperate state he said the three words that every woman wants to hear.  No, not those three words, these three,

Let’s go out.

See what I’m saying?  Daddy’s are Superheroes.  But instead of going out, I opted for Dane cooking dinner while I ran to the spa, I mean Walmart.  My day, made Walmart look like the spa.  I relaxed as I walked up and down the isles, picking up ingredients for Had a Bad Day Cookies and as I drove home, sipping on a diet coke I breathed a sigh of relief.

When I walked in the door, dinner was made. Isaac was playing in the exersaucer and Daddy was holding Bosty.  Boston pointed to Mommy then Daddy and said,

Mommy want Daddy.

I think that was Boston’s way of making a truce, or maybe just taunting me, because Daddy was holding him not me, but we did kiss and make a mutual agreement to try harder tomorrow.  If not, at least Superman flies in a t 5 o’clock every night.


3 thoughts on “Daddy’s are Superheroes

  1. nofxmeg

    Jill my stupid blogger stopped working so im using wordpress too… not really sure how to use this thing all that well, but I will figure it out. Love U!!

  2. Carrie

    that was one of the funniest posts i’ve ever read. i’ve had those days too when i call shawn crying and asking when he’s coming home. i love it when they can save the day.


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