Danger Monkey, age 10: “Can I have more steak please?”
Me: “Well, we’re all splitting just one steak, so none of us are having very much.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “I want more steak, too.”
Me: “You kids are making a Viking dad very proud.”
LMT: “No, I want a bigger piece than that. You need to buy more steak next time.”
DM: “Yeah, this is not enough steak.”
Me: “I think I’m going to tear up.”
Someone likes to pretend she’s asleep in the car when we get home.
Someone likes to be carried up to bed.
Someone thinks Dad can’t tell she’s faking.
Someone thinks she’s a pretty good faker.
But Dad knows.
He knows she gets heavier every time.
He knows any day now she won’t want to be carried anymore.
Dad plays along and carries her, heavy, up all those stairs.
Every step, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll get to carry his tiny girl.
She feels like she’s getting away with it.
He feels her getting away.
Wonderful Wife: “Good morning, dear. Be warned, we have kids in the bed who may or may not be about to…”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “CANNONBALL!!!”
(jumps onto my middle)
Me: “Oof. What a way to wake up. Wait… who’s pulling my arm hair?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “I’m not pulling your hair. I’m just hugging you… one hair at a time.”
Me: …
WW: “Well, honey, do you feel loved?”
Me: “I feel… a knee in my spleen.”
WW: “Same thing.”
Me: “I’m pretty sure morning snuggles are supposed to be calm and loving.”
WW: “Are you sure? Have you checked the manual lately?”
LMT: “I think that was how snuggles were before you had kids.”
Me: “We’ve never not had kids.”
Very Vocal Viking 