Isn’t this the cutest card?? I hope you like the little bear on the front—did you notice he’s doing a handstand?? I want everything to be perfect on your first Father’s Day.
Speaking of “day,” can you believe it’s daytime already?? It was just nighttime, like, five seconds ago. Was it 4:30 a.m. when I closed my eyes, or 5:00? So many things transpired in the night that I lost track. There was screaming, a diaper change, baby massages. More screaming, a bottle, more baby massages. More screaming, another diaper change, diaper rash cream, more baby massages. A sleep-inducing sheep. A mobile made of doggies. Several trips to the rocking chair. At some point I closed my eyes, then BAM!—like someone punched me in the face!!—it was 6:30 and the baby was up for the day. It’s good though, that I got to spend that time with him in the night, since I had been at the office all day. Thank god I have my law degree, because being a lawyer trained me for this. The only thing that requires more all-nighters than a J.D. is an M.O.M. degree, amiright??
Don’t worry, everything was fine after that. I mean, mostly fine. I took my two-minute shower—thank god for dry shampoo, amiright??—and got baby and me ready for our day. But then there was a poop incident as we were about to walk out the door. You know how the baby rolls over on the changing table now and tries to crawl off it? (Do you? Do you know?) Well he does, and he did, and there was a hand in the poop, then a foot in the poop, then his poop-covered butt sat right down on the table. I thought there was poop on my arm at one point, but then it wasn’t there anymore, and I’m not quite sure where it went. But no biggie, it’s not there now!! Anyway, I handled it like a boss. Speaking of boss, I was running 15 minutes late for work after that, but nobigdeal! My boss is cool. I mean, he’s a “he,” with no children, so he doesn’t “get it,” per se. But he’ll probably be cool. I mean, I’m sure he can’t remember the last time he saw me before 9:30 a.m. anyway, amiright??
Oh yeah, then came the vomit. After I wrestled the baby into his diaper and put his clothes on him while he crawled, we were on our way to the stroller when he spit-up. And not one of those adorable newborn spit-ups; it was full-bodied, eight-month-old spit-up! It got on the clothes he had been wearing for six seconds, and all over my dress. Black dress. White spit-up. Collar to hem. Back to the changing table for those wipes! No big deal!
I mean, it was kind-of a big deal, because by that point I was running 30 minutes late for work. Sure, I probably could have walked faster on the way to daycare if not for the hole in the bottom of my foot. Remember that splinter I got ten days ago that I compared to a broken popsicle stick? I know you told me to go to urgent care, but who has time for that??
Instead, I dug a little crater in my foot with tweezers, and fished around in there by the light of my iPhone. A few days later it still hurt, so I carved the hole bigger with a sewing needle I sterilized with an old cigarette lighter. I know what you’re thinking—YES I OWN A SEWING NEEDLE! LOL!! Anyway, it still hurts pretty badly, whether from the chunk of oak floor in there or for from the big hole. Remember that game we played when I was pregnant? “Your baby is the size of a lentil this week! Your baby is the size of a grape!” I’m playing that game now with my foot hole. Anyway, I was limping along at a pretty slow clip so I lost a little more time.
Oh yeah, then there was the hose incident. It was silly, really. A superintendent was outside hosing down the sidewalk in front of his building. Why do they do that, anyway? Dog feces? Rat urine? Anyway, his hose was everywhere, all pretzel-like, taking up the whole sidewalk. Just when I’d get one stroller wheel over, another would get stuck on a different part of the hose. That’s when some woman rammed her shoulder right into me—totally avoidable!—but no big deal, I’m sure she had places to be. Anyway, I got us through the hose maze, but then the dirty sidewalk
Anyway, we finally made it the four blocks to daycare, but then I got stumped filling out the morning daily sheet. I had to pause because I didn’t know the date—not the date date—but the month! Like, I didn’t know it at all!! And even after I paused to think about it, I still wrote “5” for May—because that’s how tired I was!! ISN’T THAT HILARIOUS?? It’s the middle of June and I had no idea!!!
Oh right! Middle of June! Father’s Day! I almost forgot, this is your Father’s Day card. I knew I had a point. My point is, HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!!! When Sunday rolls around, you just relax. Because being a dad is hard work. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.