Seeing as I am not a husband at the moment- Neen, gone for two months for ‘work’ to the States, me, sadly mooching at home (whoooohoooo- quite enjoying doing things my way!), and longing for her return- erm, guess I could tell you a pack of lies about the children that will make you jealous of my 5-star fathering.
James is the oldest at nine, happy with snack food and a good book. Occasionally gets creative with his homework completion. But he’s been ok without his mommy.
Hannah, six, is the crazy one- wild ideas, constantly singing songs she makes up, and over thinking things: Like tonight: the burgers I ordered after the rain forced me to call off the braai (barbecue)- Hannah picks up the little seasoning sachet, and says DAD! I will never, never eat this! Why H? Because it is deadly poisonous! Eh? You get it in shoes, and boxes and things! Oooooohhhh! I get it. She means those silicon sachets that come with goods to stop them from getting damp. Must have warned her about them a little too strenuously. See? Crazy. She sometimes weeps for mommy, and has, by my reckoning, made 2396 drawings and cards for mommy ‘for when she gets home’.
And Jonah. At almost-three (in May), he is one tough kid. Normally really good looking, too. Gets his way, every time. He has missed mommy, but mostly he just can’t understand why he can’t really interact with her on Skype video. Tries touching the screen. Anyway. He has the worst chickenpox blisters I have ever seen right now- scalp, lips, eyelids and everywhere else. Huge ones. He’s hardly complaining, but he looks terrible. Poor child.
So they are all still alive after eight weeks without mommy, and so am I. Two weeks to go today!
You really don’t need to see photos of me. Generic bald guy. Ok Just one. Hey! It took me less than five minutes to shave my entire head and face this morning with a safety razor. No cuts! No mirror to check back of head! Pretty damned impressive, if you ask me. You are welcome to try and beat that time, if you have what it takes…
James is the oldest at nine, happy with snack food and a good book. Occasionally gets creative with his homework completion. But he’s been ok without his mommy.
Hannah, six, is the crazy one- wild ideas, constantly singing songs she makes up, and over thinking things: Like tonight: the burgers I ordered after the rain forced me to call off the braai (barbecue)- Hannah picks up the little seasoning sachet, and says DAD! I will never, never eat this! Why H? Because it is deadly poisonous! Eh? You get it in shoes, and boxes and things! Oooooohhhh! I get it. She means those silicon sachets that come with goods to stop them from getting damp. Must have warned her about them a little too strenuously. See? Crazy. She sometimes weeps for mommy, and has, by my reckoning, made 2396 drawings and cards for mommy ‘for when she gets home’.
And Jonah. At almost-three (in May), he is one tough kid. Normally really good looking, too. Gets his way, every time. He has missed mommy, but mostly he just can’t understand why he can’t really interact with her on Skype video. Tries touching the screen. Anyway. He has the worst chickenpox blisters I have ever seen right now- scalp, lips, eyelids and everywhere else. Huge ones. He’s hardly complaining, but he looks terrible. Poor child.
So they are all still alive after eight weeks without mommy, and so am I. Two weeks to go today!
You really don’t need to see photos of me. Generic bald guy. Ok Just one. Hey! It took me less than five minutes to shave my entire head and face this morning with a safety razor. No cuts! No mirror to check back of head! Pretty damned impressive, if you ask me. You are welcome to try and beat that time, if you have what it takes…
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