Give it time. It’s going to happen.

When I arrived at work on Monday morning, my [...]]]> I thought for sure that after three days with our new puppy I’d be frustrated with our edition, but surprisingly, I’m not. Not once have I shouted out, “Stop eating the curtains!” or “She dumped on the floor!”

Give it time. It’s going to happen.

When I arrived at work on Monday morning, my colleagues and buddies were interested to know how my surprise went with the boys. They asked, “Did you put the dog in the cage trap or did you go with the wife’s suggestion?”

Submissively, I lowered my head and reluctantly replied that we went with her idea. My colleagues laughed at me.

Guys inherently know when a wife will be triumphant and especially enjoy an admission of failure. Morons.

We arrived at the house Friday night and made our way to the backyard where the boys were playing.

Colin knew something was up because I had a goofy grin on my face and was video taping the moment.

And then Angie came around the corner holding Molly, our mini schnauzer.

As a parent, you live for those moments. His eyes lit up and his smile broke across his face. He was so excited and thrilled and I was particularly overwhelmed with his response.

Colin turned to his little brother to share the moment, “Adrian, we have a new dog!”

The boys immediately ran to the dog and we all huddled around her.

Molly wasn’t as excited as the boys. She was a nervous wreck and squeezed out a poop right there.

Angie looked at me and said, “We need to clean that up.”

It seems to me that the word “We” often means, “Daddy”.

We spent our weekend instructing our boys on how to handle a pet and getting used to the change in routine. Colin was eager to learn and immediately became involved in all aspects of the dog.

Unfortunately, Adrian seemed to be fearful of our 6 pound monster. He was reluctant to approach her and would flee to the safety of higher ground whenever she came close to him.

It probably didn’t help when I called out, “She’s coming for you, Boy! Run!”

I’m kidding. I wouldn’t do that to my son. Perhaps somebody else, but not mine.

Worst of all, I noticed that Adrian and Colin didn’t play together. Colin was focused on the dog and Adrian preferred to keep his distance and so, he played alone. I was saddened by that and Angie and I will have to figure out a solution.

But despite those concerns, Colin and I managed to share a wonderful Father and Son moment on Sunday.

Colin innocently asked, “Daddy, can I give Molly a kiss?”

Me: Of course, Buddy. Kiss her all you want. You’re Daddy’s kissed a lot of dogs.

Colin: Really?

Me: Well, a lot more than I’ll admit too! That’s for sure. How do you think I became such a good kisser?

I laughed (for all of 5 seconds) while Colin looked at me, puzzled.

Me: It’s OK to kiss your dog.

And Colin did just that.

Molly couldn't keep up with Colin and fell asleep in his arms. Awwwwww.

Surprisingly, I couldn’t find anyone who breeds domesticated beavers because a pet beaver would be pretty dam cool. Eh? Did you notice that?

I’m amazed that Angie and I were able to keep this secret from [...]]]> Angie and I are bringing home our new family pet today, a mini schnauzer which we’ve named, Molly.

Surprisingly, I couldn’t find anyone who breeds domesticated beavers because a pet beaver would be pretty dam cool. Eh? Did you notice that?

I’m amazed that Angie and I were able to keep this secret from the boys for a whole five months! There were certainly a few close calls when we actually spilled our secret, but some quick Dad thinking saved the day.

That’s just an old picture of Gussy (our previous dog) Hey! What do you say we play another round of Mario Brothers!

A special thank you goes out to the video gaming industry for keeping my son’s mind occupied.

Of course, all this excitement wouldn’t be complete without a plan when we arrive home. We can’t just walk in the door and announce, “We have a new dog.” That’s boring. So, I thought up a great idea, which unfortunately, Angie didn’t like.

No, I wasn’t going to dress in a gold suit and top hat – that’s specifically reserved for the lottery and quitting my job.

Originally, my intention was to build up the anticipation of the event, by telling Colin that we had a fabulous surprise for him and Adrian. But, I learned that wasn’t going to cut it.

Me: Hey, Buddy. I’ve got a surprise for you! Wait. I don’t know if I can even say anything else, it’s so exciting! You are going to freak! Oh, Man! I’m just excited thinking about it! IT’S AWESOMELY AWESOME!

Colin: Let me guess, Daddy. It’s bath night.

I laughed when he said that because it was so true: So many surprises wasted on bath night.

So, I came up with another plan.

Cue the Mission Impossible music.

Step 1: Upon our arrival (eta 18:00), Angie places the puppy, which is already in his carrier, in the backyard.

Step 2: I frantically barge (Hey, I know how to ham up a situation. I took drama in high school… and through the rest of my teens and twenties) into the house calling out to the boys for their help, “I’ve caught an animal in my trap and it’s MAD.” To which their response will be, “What is it?” I’ll claim not to know what it is because it’s so MAD and ANGRY that I can’t get near the trap without it hissing at me!

Step 3: I’ll ask them to back me up as I attend to the trap. Kids always agree to the unknown as long as Dad is front and centre.

Step 4: I’ll dress them up in their bike helmets, oven mitts and give them an axe for safety. Okay, an axe might be too dangerous. I’ll give the boys one of Molly’s new squeaky toys. Of course, they’ll stop to play with the squeaky toys and forget what we’re doing so, I’ll have to remind them of the task at hand.

Step 5: I’ll lead them to the carrier and have them be ready with the squeaky toys when I unlock the door.

And then I’ll announce, “WE HAVE A NEW DOG!”

I like my idea, but as I pointed out earlier, Angie didn’t like it. She thought Molly would be scared.

Angie’s idea is to join the boys in the backyard when we get home because there’s a good chance that’s where they’ll be. While I’m playing with them, Angie will step out into the backyard with the puppy in her arms and say, “hello” to the boys.

She expects that they won’t even notice and will continue playing with me.

Because I’ll be the Amoeba Monster chasing them down.

And then she’ll announce, “We have a new dog!”

I have to say that I like my idea better.

More pictures to follow after the surprise.

The new family pet

Luckily, I have a wife who knows me well! Somewhere in-between Angie’s detailed and well-thought out visit to Toronto, which included [...]]]> Some Dads might find it scary being left alone with the kids while Mummy is away for the weekend while others (like me) are only worried about who is going to feed us.

Luckily, I have a wife who knows me well! Somewhere in-between Angie’s detailed and well-thought out visit to Toronto, which included decisions on dresses, shoes and make-up (that’s how women roll when they’re out of town for two nights); she found time to plan our entire weekend menu.

That’s my Angie! I’ll have to return the favour with some late night loving taps on her shoulder. Because women like that, don’t they?

So, with our meals all set, all I had to do was entertain my boys.

Our Friday night event was already planned thanks to my oldest son, Colin. He wanted to go to the wave pool.

Colin was excited while Adrian simply went with the flow. Adrian is three years old.

Colin: Daddy, can we jump off the diving board and play in the deep end?

Me: Buddy, I don’t know if we can do that because I have to stick close to Adrian.

Colin: Couldn’t we put a life-jacket on him?

Me: And let him bob around in the water?

Colin: Yeah.

My wife-controlled section of my brain began to tingle and I saw future me being reprimanded by a finger waving future Angie.

Dad’s have the ability to see in the future – when we choose to do so.

Me: Sorry, Dude. We’ll have to wait until next time. I can’t leave Adrian alone.

We walked into the Men’s change room and I immediately chose a specific locker and location. I’m very particular about my change room location.

Guaranteed all men have a preference as to where they want to be in a change room. Mine is far from the shower.

I pulled out Adrian’s swim suit and immediately noticed something wrong. It looked too big. I checked the tag and sure enough it wasn’t Adrian’s. Adrian wears a size 3. This was a size 7.

What was I going to do? Should I pack us all up and go back home? Put simply, that would suck.

Nope, when pressed in any situation, I did what all Dads do: I adapted to the situation!

I pulled the suit up and drew the drawstring to its maximum (and tied the biggest bow you’ve ever seen). His three year old hips would have to do the rest.

Adrian didn’t care or even notice how loose it was. He just wanted to get in the pool. Colin, on the other hand, had something to say.

Colin: Daddy, what if it falls down?

Me: He won’t care. He’s three years old! He loves to run around naked at home. I think he’ll have more fun doing it in a pool.

Colin: But other people will see him.

Me: Adults won’t care, Buddy. They’ll just see his little white whale and think it’s cute. But if someone complains, you help Adrian out and I’ll distract them with my own white whale.

Colin thought that funny.

Me: Of, course. We’ll have to leave after that.

With the boys both dressed, it was my turn to get ready. While I took my clothes off I heard Colin tell Adrian to, “look at Daddy.”

There’s no doubt about it – kids are fascinated with the naked body.

I turned myself towards the locker to put on my swimsuit and then felt a WHACK against my ass.

It was Adrian.

Me: HEY! Don’t whack my butt!

Adrian and Colin were both laughing.

We spent the next hour and a half playing in the pool. Whenever they wanted me to chase them, I would. It’s amazing how such simple activities can bring joy to a child’s face. I was a shark, an octopus, a sea serpent and a raspberry-blowing water zombie.

And only once was Adrian the little white whale.

Why smile when I can do this!

And I owe it all to a movie that just happened to [...]]]> After experiencing the amount of laughter I generated out of my kid’s and the conversations that ensued, I’m not so sure that I want to go back to using my same-old-boring-parental voice. You see, my whole weekend was spent doing ‘voices’ for my kids.

And I owe it all to a movie that just happened to be on TV: Muppet’s in Space.

What a horrible movie.

Prior to the latest Muppet movie that came out; my kids never experienced the Muppet’s like I did. They weren’t around in ’78 when the Muppet Show began, but thanks to Youtube, they’re now aware of all the characters and the silly show that it was.

And what child wouldn’t be interested in characters such as; Beaker, Animal, the Swedish Chef or Kermit? When I was a kid, Crazy Harry was my favourite Muppet, who always seemed to show up when a big explosion was required.

After the movie, Adrian asked if I could be Kermit.

I’ve always been good at doing voices and I often make up my own characters. The Amoebawho has a slurpy kind of voice and Jimmy-Joe the Hillbilly are their favourites and just hearing those voices sets them off for some play-time battles with me.

I couldn’t ignore his request. After-all, the Muppet’s were, according to the theme song, sensational and inspirational.  So, I began my  Kermit the Frog impersonation with his introduction: Hi-Ho, Kermit the Frog here.

Adrian loved it and from that moment on, I was Kermit, Fozzie Bear, Beaker and Miss Piggy.

Yes, Miss Piggy.

At nap-time, Adrian picked out the book, There were 5 in the Bed, and asked that I read it as Beaker.

I replaced every single word with Meep.

What an even easier read!

As I meeped along, Adrian was quick to observe parts that I supposedly missed.

Adrian: Oh, Beaker. You missed this part.

Me: I read that part!

Adrian: Daddy, I’m only talking to Beaker.

Me: Meep.

I found it strange that Adrian knew when to turn the page.

At one point I asked Adrian if he wanted to read the story like Beaker.

Adrian: I can’t read, yet! I’m only three.

Me: Why don’t you read it like Beaker?

Adrian: Daddy, I already told you, I can’t read. And I’m only talking to Beaker!

Me: But all you have to do is Meep.

Adrian: Daddy! I CAN’T READ!

After I was finished reading, Adrian asked if I could do it again. So, I did.

And then I read it as Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.

At the dinner table, I was asked to be Kermit and I happily got into the role. And when Adrian put up a fuss with a portion of his dinner I told him I was going to use my frog tongue to steal his food. Adrian didn’t want that to happen and promptly guarded and ate all his dinner. But even more amazing then my ability to be amphibian was Adrian’s engagement in conversation. I think he really believed he was talking to Kermit and the conversation never seemed to end.

Me: Hi-Ho, Adrian, why don’t you be a good frog and eat your yogurt.

Adrian: I’m not a frog, Kermit. I’m just Adrian!

Me: Okay, Buddy. Don’t get so excited.

Adrian: Ah, Daddy. I’m only talking to Kermit.

Me (in Kermit): Okay.

Night time was reserved for Miss Piggy. Yes, I agree it’s a little strange that I did that one, but I was actually surprised that I could do it so well. Even Angie agreed that it was my best.

Who would have thought I could be a pig?

I lay down beside Adrian and Colin and began with There Were 5 in the Bed.

Because that’s what Adrian wanted to hear…again.

Me (Miss Piggy): There were five in the bed and the little one said move over, move over, HIYAA! So they all moved over and one fell out.

Then I read some Calvin and Hobbes (for Colin) as Muppet characters.

With the boys satisfied I gave them both good night kisses by uttering one of Miss Piggy’s catch phrases: Kissy, Kissy!

I couldn’t help but feel like a successful parent when I left the room. The simple use of silly voices (no matter how accurate or not) generated so much interest and conversation with Adrian and Colin. They were completely engaged and I began my Sunday morning doing the same – although, Colin was getting creeped out that I was enjoying Miss Piggy so much.

I think I’ll spend some more time mastering voices.

Daddy, be Kermit again!

Being a Dad and in [...]]]> My Thursday morning routine was disrupted by my scheduled doctor’s appointment which benefited the whole family (except for Angie who had to take the bus to work): The kids and I got to sleep in and they were able to hang out with Dad a little longer than usual.

Being a Dad and in my forties, it’s important to schedule an annual check-up. I’ve been going to my doctor for twenty years and I feel eerily comfortable when I’m being examined by her. We can talk about anything from hockey to our kids and I feel as though I’m simply conversing with a friend.

With my pants down around my ankles.

I was looking forward to my appointment because I’ve been working out over the past three months and believe I’m in the best shape of my life (Thank you P90X).

Surely, she’d be impressed with my quads and calves.

On my way out the door, Colin asked, “Are you getting the same check-up as me?”

Me: Yep. Except instead of checking to see how much I’ve grown since the last time, she’s going to make sure nothing new on me has grown.

I laughed at my own joke because I thought it was pretty funny and that’s what I do, but Colin was repulsed by my response.

Colin: Ewww! What’s growing on you?

Me: I’m kidding Buddy. She’s just going to make sure I’m healthy like you. It’s important for Daddies to get check-ups, too.

——

When I arrived at my Doctor’s office I was led immediately into the examination room. I was disappointed that I wasn’t able to sit down in the waiting room and read old magazines.

I took a seat on the examination bed and when she came in (almost immediately– again, no time to read the magazine in examination room), she remarked, “Have you lost weight? You look like you’re shrinking.”

I puffed up my chest and flexed all of my body muscles at once.

Me: Accurate observation, Doc. I’ve been working out.

I went into an explanation of the P90X routine that Angie and I had adopted and she seemed quite impressed that parents with two young children had the time to do so.

After our initial chit-chat, she began her examination of the new and improved me, then she paused and sat back in her chair. I knew what was coming.

Doc: You know. You are forty-five years old.

I wanted to say ‘no, I’m not’, but it’s surprisingly hard to lie to your Doctor.

With a sense of despair I nodded, “Yes. I know.”

Doc: Well, would you like me to do a rectal exam?

My ‘friend’ was all of a sudden, professional. I knew this because she didn’t say, ‘arse’.

In all honesty, I was expecting this.

And the reas0n why my morning shower was twenty minutes longer than usual.

But did it have to be so formal? Couldn’t she have just asked me to turn over and continued our conversation?  Did we need to stop and make it all so uncomfortable?

I would have preferred she throw some change on the floor and ask me to pick it up!

I decided to explore the situation.

Me: No. Not really.

Doc: Well, the examination is routine for me.

Translation: I’ve seen plenty of assholes. You’re not that special.

We discussed the matter together and went over my family history and my own health (which has dramatically improved) and decided it could wait.

After that, she finished the rest of my examination and I happily left the office (and noticed others reading magazines in the waiting room).

Later on, I relayed the entire episode to Angie, who was anything but satisfied with my decision to skip the full examination exam.

In fact, she was wanted to kick me in the ass.

In the words of a famous Scottish engineer, “I don’t know how much [...]]]> Keeping a secret is hard work, especially when it involves your kids. Angie and I have been sitting on ours; the acquisition of our new miniature schnauzer, since January and we still have another three weeks before we pick her up.

In the words of a famous Scottish engineer, “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on, Captain!

I want to tell them!

And it certainly doesn’t help that our house is slowly filling up with pet possessions. We’ve bought a crate carrier, dog bowls, a place-mat (with decorated fire hydrants) and some squeaky toys.

By the way, I’ve learned a valuable lesson when it comes to hiding things: Don’t let you’re your wife tell you to hide things. She should hide it herself. I discovered some Christmas gifts in the garage only a few weeks ago.

Fortunately, the anticipation of seeing their reaction when we arrive home with our puppy keeps me in check, but it hasn’t been without a few slip-ups over the past week.

On one occasion, while Colin sat at the dining room table, I complained to Angie that I no longer liked our ratty carpet runner and suggested we get rid of it. She reminded me that our new puppy would scratch the hardwood.

As soon as she realized what she had said, she covered her mouth expecting Colin to react (and ready to fault me), but surprisingly he wasn’t paying attention to us.

Because discussions about carpets are so interesting!

A few days ago, while I was losing my mind trying to solve my camera issue, Colin walked up to me and casually asked if he could see the picture on my laptop screen.

I’d forgotten about my laptop and when I looked over at it, there was a picture of our new puppy at eight weeks.

No, it wasn’t porn! Although, that would have been an interesting situation…for Mummy to explain.

Colin: Daddy, is that Gussy when he was a puppy?

I looked up, horrified that the secret was about to be spilled because of me.

Being a Dad, I adapted to my situation!

And my mind was cursing all of the curse words imaginable.

Me: Yep. That’s Gussy!

Colin: Can I see it?

Me: Sorry, Buddy. Hey, I’m glad you’re here! Can you figure out what’s wrong with this?

I quickly closed the application and then thrust my camera into his hands.

Children are easily distracted by complicated problems.

Situation saved by Dad!

For a brief moment I considered telling Colin, with the intention of keeping our secret from Mummy, that it was our new puppy. But then I remembered how much he enjoys ratting me out and decided not to.

At the dinner table 

Colin: Mummy, you know that movie I’m not allowed to watch (King Kong) because it’s too scary.

Angie: Yes. It’s too violent for you, Colin.

Colin: Daddy let me watch some of it.

Me: HEY!

Children really enjoy seeing Daddies get in trouble.

My other salvation (besides the excitement my kids will experience) to keeping our secret has been Adrian. I can talk, sing or pretend to be a dog and he never catches on.

Adrian: Daddy, can you be this knight and we’ll have a battle OK?

Me: OK. Hey, Knight.

Adrian: My name is Dymlo knight.

I don’t know where or how he came up with the name, Dymlo.

Me: Hey, Dymlo, would you like a dog for your castle?

Adrian: Daddy, you’re not being a good listener. Just be a knight and battle me!

Me: Alright, Dawg. I’ll be a better listener.

Daddy, why do we have to have dogs with our Knights?

Hmmm, you’re skipping work to go to school.

Aside [...]]]> I have to admit that taking a volunteer day is a sweet deal. It’s even sweeter when the volunteer day means a day off work, so that I can hang out with my son on his field trip to the Museum of Science and Technology.

Hmmm, you’re skipping work to go to school.

Aside from my usual morning parental responsibilities, I actually felt like a kid Wednesday morning.

Minus the shaving.

One of my daily responsibilities includes preparing Colin’s lunch, but since we were both going to school I thought it would be fun to make us each the exact same lunch. And since I considered this to be a relatively special day, I decided to make my most awesome of sandwiches – a ‘beach’ sandwich.

A beach sandwich is the type of sandwich that Angie and I prefer to make when we take the kids to the beach. It consists of pastrami, marble cheddar cheese, mustard, mayo and my most recent addition, lettuce on a whole wheat bun.

Only recently did Colin try lettuce on a sandwich which he proudly labelled as ‘brilliant’. I’ve never had a sandwich described like that before.

We arrived at school with our lunchboxes in hand and made our way to Colin’s classroom. Colin went to his desk and I hung out at the back.

Being the cool parent that I am.

The teacher explained the logistics of the trip and then re-affirmed that inappropriate or disruptive behaviour would result in the child accompanying her group.

Fortunately, I only had to play that card once.

The class was lined up and then directed to the school bus. A bus trip with two classrooms can only be described as noisy.

During the ride the kids went on about what part of the museum they wanted to see most. It was time to get this party going!

Me: Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! What are you guys talking about? Are you telling me that the teacher hasn’t told you yet?

Kid: Told us what?

Me: We’re not going to the museum. We’re going for tetanus shots! Needles!

Their eyes became wide and they also, surprisingly, became quiet.

Me: I thought you guys knew that. Why do you think there are so many parent volunteers on the bus?

Kid: They’re volunteering to take us around the museum.

Me: WRONG! The adults are volunteering to hold you down.

The kids looked at me stunned and then Colin piped in, “My daddy’s joking! Don’t believe him.”

I was going to have fun today.

When we arrived at the museum, my group of four kids ( including Colin) asked if they had to ‘follow’ the same route as the other kids.

Me: Of course not! We’re not following any path. What do you want to see first?

They all choose to see the Digital Network and tunnels first.

We played in the tunnels for twenty minutes. We all had a great time trying to catch each other in the tunnels and the boys thought it was hilarious watching me in the tunnel slide.

It wasn’t so hilarious when I got kicked in the back.

We emerged from the Digital Network hot and sweating from all the non-running that we did.

Me: Alright, what do you say we skip the rest of the museum and head across the street for some laser tag?

Kids: YES!

Me: Alright, who has money?

Kid: How much does it cost?

Me: I’m not sure, but let’s just say $20.

They all became quiet and looked at one another.

Me: Don’t worry, Colin. I’ll pay for you. Anyone else? No? Well, sorry to do this boys but I’m going to have to send you off with the teacher and tell her you weren’t listening.

They all looked to Colin who looked back at me, “Daddy! Stop joking with us!”

We continued on to the next exhibit and enjoyed more laughs.

—–

Lunch time with children hasn’t changed since the days I went to school.

As soon as I opened my lunch bag, my group rifled through it to see what I had. They were all quite impressed and didn’t seem interested in sharing with me, what they had.

Colin had begun to eat his sandwich when one of the kids asked, “What is that?” Colin explained the beach-sandwich to him and his response was, “Ewwwww!”

It was time to get into the conversation.

Me: Well, what kind of sandwich do you have?

The kid pulled out a squished white bread sandwich.

Disappointingly, he replied, “Baloney.”

Me: Really? They still make that? Do you like baloney?

Kid: Yeah. I like it.

Me: Is it brilliant?

Kid: No. It’s just good. Can I try yours?

Me: Well, what else do you have in your lunch-box? Maybe we can make a trade.

But in the end a deal wasn’t made. I couldn’t part with my brilliant sandwich.

—–

We spent the rest of the day touring the museum and whenever they showed some interest in a subject I would take the time out to explain and provide then with some interesting facts.

How do astronauts poop in space?

I was amazed at how close the kids got to me over the day. They were interested in my family and what we did at home, what sports we played and games we liked. And they were also impressed with my ability to converse in the world of Skylanders and Lego Ninjago.

On the way back to school one of the kids asked me what I do for a living.

Me: I’m a Daddy.

Kid: No. I mean what do you do? My Daddy is a Garbage man.

Me: Well, your Daddy has an important job.

We certainly could have used him at lunch time. You guys are slobs.

I quickly realized that my job, from a kid’s perspective, is not that interesting. What’s so cool about project management?

Me: I work on computer projects, like the Digital Network at the museum, only not as interesting.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression.

Me: I also saw a beaver at work last week.

Kid: Really! That’s so cool.

When we arrived at school the teacher informed me that I could take Colin home early. Colin happily accepted the offer and we both went home together.

It’s a shame I only have one volunteer day a year.

My school mate for a day

I made it clear to the boys on Saturday that we would be busy preparing for the party and so they would have to find ways to [...]]]> Sunday was Colin’s first communion and like any celebratory event, parents (Angie and me, included) always do their best to make sure everything is planned and ready.

I made it clear to the boys on Saturday that we would be busy preparing for the party and so they would have to find ways to entertain themselves without, Daddy.

That’s difficult for my kids because Daddy’s a freaking riot!

Physical preparation

Angie began her Saturday morning grocery shopping while I cleaned up the boys’ basement playroom. After Angie returned and the groceries were put away, I vacuumed the carpet (without even having to ask where the vacuum was located!) and Angie steam cleaned the floors. The chairs and tables were prepared with clean table cloths and arranged to accommodate our guests. And to ensure as smooth a morning as possible, I ironed the boys’ clothes.

Talk about efficient parenting!

Managing time

With all our preparations completed, Angie and I had some spare time to relax. So, Saturday evening we plunked ourselves down on the couch to watch some TV and even allowed the boys to stay up an hour later because we missed out on hanging out with them.

But that’s not to say we weren’t finished planning for Colin’s event.

Angie and I considered all that was required to get to the church on time and planned our schedule: I would get up first and then wake Angie, feed the boys breakfast (because kids are always up early on the weekend) and then have them washed up and dressed at 8:30. We even planned to be in the car at 9:00.

The X factor (or most commonly referred to as the second born child) – Adrian

While we were relaxing Saturday night, Angie took out her sewing kit because she needed to mend something on her dress. Colin and I watched the hockey game and Adrian played about the playroom, until he saw Mummy’s sewing kit and took an interest in what she was doing.

I wasn’t paying attention, but sort of heard the conversation.

There was a playoff game on TV!

I love my son, Adrian. He’s my little guy and his wonderful, extroverted personality brings about lots of laughs, BUT he also seems to get into trouble more often than Colin ever did – what is it with the second born! Does trouble just seem to follow them?

The conversation between Adrian and Angie began with, “Don’t touch Mummy’s scissors” and then a few minutes later became, “You cut my dress!”

Angie was patient and cool with our little tailor and attempted, through his crying, to explain why she was upset with him (for not listening). My patience, however, had expired - I instructed him to take his place on the stairs (which is where disciplinary actions are taken).

Like most Mummy’s, Angie takes our children’s life events very seriously and was devastated by his actions. This wasn’t just some random dress. This dress had meaning and was special for her.

Adrian went to bed minutes after being relieved of the stairs and Colin followed. It wasn’t how we expected our night to end.

And it certainly had an impact on the hockey game I was watching. With everyone so upset, It just didn’t seem right for me to let out a cheer.

Despite all this, Angie understood how upset Adrian was, too and went to lie down with him and fell asleep as well.

Getting ready

Our Sunday morning was going to plan. Adrian was in a better mood, but sensed he couldn’t push any boundaries or buttons, and Angie had found something else to wear. I called out to the boys to come and get their shoes and then stopped Adrian and asked him to pee once more.

He’s the second child! What are you doing?

I took all the per-cautions necessary: I removed his pants and strategically placed a wad of TP between the seat and bowl, so as to prevent any splash.

And then wrapped the shower curtain around me.

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t realize, (nor did Angie) that some eye shadow makeup had fallen to the floor where I placed his khakis. His pants were speckled with black make-up.

Me: No! What is this? Angie!

Adrian began to cry.

I quickly re-assured his already fragile state of mind. “Adrian, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Well, it may have something to do with being the second born.

Angie miraculously saved the morning with her Tide pen!

Is there anything a Tide pen can’t do! Thank you, Tide pen.

The event

Before entering the church, I had already decided to sit Adrian between Angie and me. With grand-parents and cousins present, the temptation for Adrian would be overwhelming.

And yet, we all (myself included) seemed intent on providing that temptation throughout the mass!

Despite a few shushes from Mummy, Adrian survived the mass and Colin was successfully sent to a commune. Wait, Colin’s communion was a success.

Oh, the second born.

Adrian looking a little mischievous.

It was Angie’s fault!

My parental routine had been [...]]]> It was 6:20AM when I went to the boys’ bedroom to wake them up and get them ready for their day, but I hesitated before going inside because I was 10 minutes early (being a parent, I appreciate every moment of sleep I can get).

It was Angie’s fault!

My parental routine had been disrupted by Angie, who surprisingly slept the whole night in our bed. You see, Adrian, our three year old, has gotten into the habit of calling out to Angie in the middle of the night and like any mother would, she goes to him.

And I celebrate by taking the whole bed! I moved right into the middle and even spread out my toes! C’mon! I’m being honest. Every husband knows that when you get married you might as well be back in a single bed no matter what the size.

Angie never makes it back because she falls asleep with him (and Colin).

So, this morning I didn’t have to go to the boys’ room to get Angie up. And I didn’t have to slip in beside Adrian, after Mummy left.

Because Adrian knows when Mummy has left and would sound off his displeasure with a wailing cry.

I stood at the door for a moment and then decided to go in anyway. The truth is I wanted to lie down beside them. As a parent, you live for those moments.

My eyes adjusted to the dark to find Colin and Adrian facing each other and only inches away.

And now it was Daddy’s time to do the waking! So, I took out the stainless steel pot from behind my back and began banging away.

I didn’t do that! These aren’t friends. They’re my kids!

I quietly came up beside the bed and could hear their breaths and knew they were in a deep sleep.

And then I spooned my 180 pound frame beside Adrian…and then shifted to my back.

I couldn’t mess my hair!

It was enough to wake Colin and he stretched his arms up over his head. Adrian didn’t move.

Colin looked up at me, smiled and sarcastically whispered, “Thanks for waking me up, Daddy.”

I smiled back at him figuring he would go back to sleep, but he didn’t.

Colin: Is it a school day?

Me: Yes.

His head sunk back down to his pillow.

Colin: Daddy, I don’t want to go school.

I don’t want to go to work either, but I’m not sure I convince Mummy to let us both stay home.

Me: Buddy, you have to go to school so that you can become smart.

And still not be living at home after the age of thirty.

Colin smirked back at me and Adrian was still, amazingly, asleep.

Me: Tell you what, Buddy. How about we play a game and if you win, I’ll let you stay home from school.

Colin continued to whisper so he wouldn’t wake Adrian, but he was, all-of-a sudden, awake and alert.

Colin: Really?

Me: Yep. If I can make you laugh, you have to go to school. But if I can’t, you can stay home.

Colin liked his odds.

Foolish child. Don’t you know that I’m toying with you! Baa ha ha!

Colin quickly added that I wasn’t allowed to tickle him.

Colin put on his best determined not to laugh face and I called out to my secret laughing weapon.

Me: Adrian, breathe your morning breath on Colin.

Breathe morning breath on my brother – yes, sir!

Adrian removed the soother from his mouth (the one that had been festering a foulness in his mouth for an entire night) and gave Colin a morning dose – Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

A three and a half year old with a soother? Yes, we’re enablers of his addiction! I can assure you that it’s coming to an end.

Colin’s face repulsed at the smell.

Colin: That’s disgusting! Gross. Adrian your breath stinks.

Adrian laughed at Colin who was doing his best to hold back his own laughter. Then Adrian thrust his little arms and hands around his neck, pulling Colin’s nose against his mouth and let go a second expulsion.

Colin bust out laughing.

Colin: Daddy, I’m going to barf! Adrian you need to brush your teeth! Can I wear a short sleeve shirt to school?

He was beaten, but instead of being in a sour mood, he was (along with Adrian) laughing and ready for his day.

Colin then asked if he could breathe on me.

Me: Only If I can breathe on you first.

Being a kid, Colin agreed.

I took a breath and let him have it.

Colin: Ewwww! That’s sick. Wait! You’re breath smells like chocolate.

Me: Yeah. I ate some of your Easter bunny before I came up.

Colin: Daddy! Get your own Easter bunny.

A cherished, parental morning moment.

Adrian and Colin asleep

I thought this blog was about your kids? True, but even parents need a break from the kids. I do see them everyday and then have to write about them. C’mon!  

Anyway, [...]]]> I couldn’t wait to tell my, “you’ll never believe what just happened to me” story when I got into work Tuesday morning. 

I thought this blog was about your kids? True, but even parents need a break from the kids. I do see them everyday and then have to write about them. C’mon!  

Anyway, I’d just dropped Angie off downtown and was about to make a right turn when a woman stepped out in front of my car, holding out her hands for me to stop. 

I stopped, but being a human with no patience in the world, wondered what the hell was going on? 

It was my light, after-all! 

Her efforts were quite daring because she’s stopped three lanes of traffic and when I looked over at the drivers to my left, I could see they were wondering the same thing. 

Who has the patience to stop for anyone? Especially another person. Pathetic isn’t it.

And then my impatience gave way to surprise. 

This woman was safely guiding a full-grown North American beaver across the street. A beaver in downtown Ottawa! 

A real beaver. Keep your mind out of the gutter. 

By now several cars were stopped and everyone seemed to be marvelling at what they were witnessing. 

Not only was I enjoying the beaver, but I was amazed at the reactions of our citizens. Others had joined the woman to ensure the safety of our national symbol and drivers, all-of-a-sudden, took the moment in and didn’t seem so rushed anymore. It didn’t matter that the beaver was taking his sweet-ass time to cross the street. Every car stopped and thankfully, nobody drove through and flattened the rest of our beloved rodent. 

If it had been a human being crossing against the light, the result might have been different. I wonder what the result would have been if a grown adult in a beaver costume was crossing against the light. 

I figured the beaver was downtown for one of three reasons:

a) It was going to the peeler bar to meet up with other beavers;

b) It was hungry and looking for a construction site; or

c) The poor guy was lost. 

I wondered if the city should be called in to help out?

As long as the police weren’t called the beaver would be safe. They might taser the crap out of it. 

Anyway, that whole episode made my morning and three days later I was still telling the story. 

I was so excited at the sight of a beaver (who isn’t? hey, keep your mind focused on the animal!) that it actually had an impact on our recent decision to buy a puppy. 

A few months ago we decided and arranged with a breeder to purchase a female mini-schnauzer. 

But I’d been feeling indifferent about getting another dog. Don’t get me wrong. I love dogs and loved our previous dog, Gussy, before he died. But I’d grown accustomed to not having one. 

Angie and I had lived without boarding, picking up poop (except rabbit), walks, barking, chewing and dog smell for four years. 

Added to my indifference was the decision to buy a mini-schnauzer. It wasn’t our first choice, but proximity and cost played a decisive factor. And minis aren’t that unique. Everyone seems to own a mini. 

And then the beaver came along. It was so cute. People took the time out to see it and it made me think of what it was like to have a dog. Gussy, our previous dog, used to draw that kind of attention. 

I doubted a mini would do the same, but perhaps it would.

Or I could get a beaver instead. Can you domesticate a beaver?
Honestly, if you were walking down the street and saw a person walking a dog and another with a beaver, who would you stop to chat with? I’m betting the owner of the beaver. 

Would a beaver be much different from a dog? I don’t think so. They’re both cute, like to carry/chew on sticks (or logs) and can be called, Bucky.

Alright, enough of the beaver! Anyway, last night we went to visit the breeder and our four week old puppy. 

Angie was very excited and I was, too. My kids (who haven’t been told yet) and the thought of how excited they’ll be, brought me around. 

We were greeted at the door by a retired woman and a cloud of cigarette smoke. Wonderful, I sarcastically thought. 

I wouldn’t let anyone smoke around my beaver, I mean dog!

Angie and I were led into the kitchen and greeted by a neighbour, who had stopped by for a visit. At least she had the courtesy to snuff out her cigarette. 

After introductions were done (and I told my beaver story) she brought the puppy out. 

What can you say about a four week old puppy except aww. 

Angie took it in her hands and said, “I love that puppy smell.” 

And do I detect a hint of Benson and Hedges? 

She was thrilled to be holding it in her hands and suddenly the beaver didn’t seem to matter anymore. Well, compared to our new puppy. 

In four more weeks we’re going to surprise our kids with our new addition to the family.

The new family pet

Or I could be your pet.