Just a Family

A few weeks ago the whole family was headed somewhere for a quick trip.  I forget where.  Convenience store?  Playground?  Somewhere public, but just a quick trip.  As Ruth was getting in the car I noticed she was barefoot.  I told her she needed to put on shoes.  She didn’t want to, and a brief power struggle ensued. Of course, being the dad, I “won” the power struggle.  She went back in the house and emerged wearing one bright yellow croc and one pink sandal, both designed for the left foot.  When I asked her if that is really what she intended to wear she replied, “Oh yes, it is the latest fashion in Brazil, don’t you know?”

It was a small incident, and I pretty quickly forgot about it.  Then the other night we saw this little gem.  My wife commented “One just never knows what the latest fashion in Brazil will be.”

When we got the dog I did a fair bit of research about neutering dogs.  I decided the best choice for our family was to wait until he was 14 months old, then do the deed.

I should mention the girls have been fascinated with the male anatomy of the dog since the day we brought him home.  Ruth was learning to observe nature in school about the same time we got the dog.  She sat down next to him with a notebook and wrote down her observations.  Black.  Furry.  Penis.

Well, as the time to neuter him drew close, the girls were getting upset by the whole thing.  I have to say I too felt a certain sympathy for the dog, so the role of being the enforcer fell to my wife.  She made the appointment and brought the dog to vet.  During the first days of his recovery I had to speak to Miriam about appropriate language.  I told her she couldn’t be going around school saying “Our dog feels bad because Mommy had his balls chopped off.”

Ruth came downstairs one day with her pockets hanging out.  When I told her to tuck them in, she asked me why.  “You can’t go to school like that.”  Her reply?  “Well, Dad, obviously I can.”

Another day Ruth came down in a dress that had grown way too short, but she still insisted on wearing.  I told her she needed to put shorts on under it, and she responded negatively.

Now, Ruth is very concerned about rules, and rules can often be used to manipulate her.  So, I reminded her that the dress code at school says you can’t let anyone see your underwear.

Clearly she had anticipated me.  “But I’m not wearing any underwear” she says while pulling up her dress to demonstrate.

Sigh.

When Ruth was a baby my wife met a lot of people while attending every baby activity on the planet, rather than staying home and going slowly insane.  We’ve stayed friends with many of the people we met then, but two of the families are especially fun to get together.  All the adults and all the kids actually seem to like each other.  Did I mention we ended up with 7 daughters among us?!

Well, Saturday night the whole group went out for dinner.  Except me.  I stayed home because I was not feeling social.  (The cause of my grumpiness might be a story for another time.)  Anyway, when my wife got home – an hour or so past the kids bedtime – and I asked how it went, she said “Fine, until it was time to leave and Ruth had a meltdown.”  (Apparently Ruth wanted everyone to get ice cream cones, but it was too late.)

Well, I was emailing with one of the other parents a couple days later (Is emailing a verb?) and this little nugget arrived…  “Too bad you were cranky on Saturday.  We had a nice dinner.  ’Til your kid had a meltdown and ruined it.  Just kidding of course.  The dinner wasn’t that nice. :-)”

Ahh, the joys of parenting.  One of my “favorite” videos is of a dance performance by Ruth, and the screams of Miriam being carried out of the theater can be heard receding into the distance.