Running shorts pulled on. Nuts safe and secure in the sewn-in banana-hammock. Vaseline on nipples to prevent chafing. Anti-friction socks, running shirt bragging about the last 10 km run I barely made it through. Check and check.
Why is Simone so quiet? Oh…right. She stands in her daybed, hands gripping the top rail. A bemused grin mixed with drool, slippery on her face. You’re not serious right? All this for a run outside? I tell her to shush, even though she’s said nothing.
We stroll to the IGA, mindful of a quick detour to avoid a couple of loose, prowling dogs, purchase Children’s Tylenol as per Mommy’s request. Outside, we sip from our sippy-cups. Simone reaches down, grabs a sandaled foot and promptly crams it into her mouth.
Yuck, that’s dirty. You don’t want to eat that.
Mwah ma da da DA!
Fine, you win.
I run up the YMCA hill, tasting copper from my lungs. We trot through suburbia, Papa looking like some yuppie-wannabe while he pushes a B.O.B stroller from M.E.C. (an outstanding purchase, in case you’re wondering), Simone gobbling her salty toes. We run 6 km’s, over sidewalks heaved open from tree roots, through quiet residential neighborhoods bisected by noisy roads. At home, in our cool garage, Simone gives me a joke’s on you look.
What joke?
I start to remove the straps from her harness…
Where’s your sippy-cup?
I told you, tee hee.
Seriously? Oh man, Simone. That’s your favorite one.
Zip ahead a few hours, after a lousy nap. We head back outside, reverse the way we came home. Just when I’m about to quit and admit defeat to dear Wifey, I see a bit of red and white plastic leaning against a McDonald’s French-fry receptacle in the gutter. KENO! I scoop up the prized sippy-cup while Simone waxes eloquent on the benefits of repeated exercise. We take the scenic route home, past homes we’ll never afford in our lifetime. I admire their gardens.
Back in the garage, Simone gives me that look again.
Oh for God’s sake, where is your sandal?
What, you mean this one here? Ohhhh, the one missing. Dunno, Pop.
One pink sandal, one bare foot.
Back to the street we go. Sweat soaking through Papa’s shirt. Simone singing her favorite tune, one only she has intimate knowledge of.
We find the sandal. We make it home.
Simone plays on a blanket in the shade of the patio umbrella.
Papa has a beer.
Ha ha haaa.
You’re unbelievably patient!
I would be raising both fists and cursing the air at the thought of 3 jaunts around with NO leftover time for house cleaning, getting dinner going or any of the other 4 million things that must be crammed into a day.
You put me to shame.
By: Raz on July 11, 2008
at 8:37 pm
That’s so funny. That a girl Simoneious you give your Dad a workout!! LOL That’s a hilarious entry. I’ve got to side with Raz though. I’m not so sure I would have felt so patient about the whole thing. I also think I would have had something a little stronger that a beer when I came home:)
By: Janina on July 12, 2008
at 8:13 am
Just have to say, Simone is one lucky girl to be spending much of her day with her Papa.
Great story! Amazing how we’ve all come to these places in our lives.
great job Harris!
By: Lucy on July 12, 2008
at 10:51 am
LOL! It is important to share these moments….Abby’s daddy has a few stories of his own. Like the other day when she had an evening doctor’s appointment and he didn’t even think about bringing her diaper bag. Sure enough, she filled her diaper. He tried to ignore it, but whilst she was playing in the waiting room, he could see it slowly starting to creep out of the diaper and up her back. So he took her to the bathroom, disposed of the diaper, cleaned her up and put her pants back on. Then he said: “Abby if you need to pee you have to tell daddy!”. Back in the waiting room, while standing on the chairs, Abby suddenly says “daddy peeing”. And she was. It was running down both legs, so Gord grabbed her and ran to the bathroom. On the way, pee was running down both her legs and down daddy’s arm. When they reached the toilet, the peeing part was done. He rinsed out her pants, patted them as dry as he could with paper towels, and put her back into her wet pants. He said you couldn’t tell by looking at them that they were soaking wet. Just then, the doctor called and they went in for her appointment. Gord held Abby in his lap during the ear examination so he figures the doctor had no idea that Abby was soaking wet.
I love that story.
By: Shauna Cox on July 14, 2008
at 10:29 am
Ha ha ha. Excellent story, Shauna. I can totally see myself doing/saying those exact things in the near future. Note to self: always bring diaper bag.
By: Harry on July 14, 2008
at 9:53 pm