A Natural Disaster

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It was just like any ordinary Tuesday in the Cooper household, me writing on the computer, Branden playing with his toys, and my husband at work. But in my parents’ household, all the way in Pittsburgh, Pa, all hell was breaking loose. You see, Tuesday is the day of the week when my parents are in charge of my [then] three year old nephew Shane, while my sister goes to work.

During our regular phone calls, my mother and I often vent to each other about the two little ones, especially now that my Branden is entrenched in The Terrible Two’s. It helps us try to keep our sanity! But, on this particular Tuesday when I checked my email, I was surprised to hear from my father instead of my mother.  You see, my father is a man known for rolling with the punches that come along with raising a family of four children, but NOT for emailing about family news.  I guess we could say he was especially “inspired” to write on this particular day, to put it mildly!

“On Tuesday August 2, 2011, MSomma wrote:

Subject:  Shane did this today

Today started just like any other day:  first work, then a quick stop at the pool to pick up Anna where she was hanging with her teenage cohorts, then head for home. I am well aware that when I arrive at our house on Tuesdays, ANYTHING can greet me. You see, Tuesday is the day my wife Linda watches our grandson Shane, and depending on his disposition,  he can be tons of fun or a handful.  And whatever the state of his mood, it tends to take over the household. Today he was a total handful, and then some! 

My first glance at Shane when I walked through the door today told me everything.  What greeted me was a happy, smiling little boy of 3 with one very particular and predominant detail. Shane was covered from legs to arms to face in what looked like tattoos!  On closer examination, I realized they weren’t tattoos, but markers.  Uh oh, I thought, what is this boy up to now?!!  Time to get to the bottom of this!

I found Linda lying quietly on the couch, totally worn out by the young lad and his deep well of energy. This day is going to get ugly, I thought.  I was more right than I  wanted to be!  Our mischievous little grandson of 3 had gotten into the markers and pens as quick as lightning, the second he saw his grandmother succumb to a brief rest on the couch.  And now he managed to totally change the course of the day. Not only did he  tattoo himself, he also “tattooed” the walls and the carpet. Quickly realizing that this was not going to be the evening I planned on,  I resolved to rise to the new situation and try to make it right.

But first I had to wake my wife, while trying without tons of success to keep my big mouth shut. Ouch. After the initial hysterical outburst settled, I went to work, vigorously trying to remove the bright primary colors of ink from a white carpet.  Yes, I insisted it could be done, even though I knew that even if it were actually possible, it would be a lot of work.  I hoped that stating my supreme belief that I could fix things would help calm Linda, and once I achieved THAT, I tried to calm myself as well! 

So now I sit here at the computer, after all evidence of marker tattoos and modern art has finally been eradicated.  I want to put today’s events into words, thinking we need to have a family record of some of Shane’s antics for future “amusement” value.  (Not to mention the fact that sometimes even strong silent guys like me need to vent a little, too!)  

Love, Dad”

Well, fellow Mamas, I think that this email from my father proves that the men in our lives also have to deal with the craziness of being parents, except that dads sometimes handle it a little differently than we do. And you know what? Maybe us ladies could learn something from our men whenever these “Natural Disasters” occur.

Fashionably Yours,

Allison

P.S. I think this email makes it very apparent where my “need to vent through writing” comes from! Thanks Dad!

Comments

  1. Laurie Klatscher says:

    I’m glad that Grampa had his say. How lucky you are to have thoughtful parents with a sense of humor. The apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree, Mamanista…may the next generation share those fine qualities!

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