Creepy Heads

Just to let you know, the Barbie 'play with my hair - just the head' dolls creep me out!   So of course my little girl wants one for Christmas. I do the smart thing and don't get her one.  But the smart little thing outsmarted me;  she asked her Grandma.  Not the first time, I know not the last *sadness* Did she get one? Yes she did.  It sat unopened and I was happy.  As you know that cannot be so we get home and I hear "Daddy (*big eyes*), will you please take the creepy head doll out?"  And yes, that is how she asked.  Then I was told, "It's just a wig doll, Daddy.  It's not creepy, that's mean to say."  So yes, I spent 20 minutes taking the nasty little thing out.  This brings me to the whole reason I started this: Why do people have to be scumbags?  The toy manufacturers sew the doll hair into the box so scummy people don't steal the kid's wig off the *not creepy* disembodied doll head. 40 rubber bands, 6 screws and more tape then I have used to wrap everything I have ever wrapped.(not sure if its more or less than you think). At the end of the unpacking, I thought to myself, that was not so bad.  People stop taking parts of toys out of boxes, just take the whole thing or leave it. Don't make my life suck!  

Man card?

This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but life happens...

So you know you've given up all hopes of manliness on this day. Today, my wife and I went into Target because my daughter needed a new shirt for a picture. My wife found the shirt easily. And then we went shopping. I found the cutest footless black leggings with lace around the ankles, then spent a good ten minutes looking through frilly ankle socks to find a pair that fit my little girl. Decided she needed new shoes and found the most adorable little black flats. Thinking how cute my daughter would look in the little outfit I helped put together. It wasn't until I got to the checkout line that I realized I needed to find the Department of Man Card Collection.

Breakfast?

So a little info on me: I was a chef for a few years and I love food. That being said, I see the way me and my wife (who also worked in the food slave profession for a while) make breakfast for my little girl. First up we ask her what she wants like we are taking an order. She orders like she is in a restaurant "Papa (thank you, Nanny McPhee, for that one), I would like a waffle and one egg, do you have any chocolate milk? No than white milk will do." "Daddy, pancakes today and V8 (the one that is fruit juice, and only the strawberry one if you please) just butter on the pancakes today - no wait - maple syrup." Yes, I know this is my doing. YES, I know I could make whatever and say that's it, eat it or nothing, but all that is not what gets to me. To be honest, I love cooking for her and wish she and her five year old palate would let me make her other more fun to make things. No, what gets to me is I can't tell you how many times I have run off to work not eating after making a complete breakfast for My Little. And the twinge of guilt: Did I ask my wife if she was hungry? *shakes head in shame*

My day off work?

So the day after New Year's, day off! I remember sitting on the couch, video games, pizza and thats about it. Now the day starts with bad kids' shows. Next to the kid's dentist and the meltdown of all time (added prize: we have to go back because she would not let them take x-rays). Then off to the haircut place - time for the bangs to get trimmed. "I dont want to put my head in that ...oh wait we need one of these for my house daddy" *BIG EYES* (this time they did not work). Finally, we go to the crafts store to buy fabric to make a new skirt.(that is a whole other story). I think next year I may go to work; less to do and soooo much less stress.

Skate and die!!

I will start this with I am not in shape - okay okay I am fat and lazy! My little girl who is five wanted to go skating. Yes this is my fault; I gave her skates for christmas. Well fine off we go to skate. I think, "Cool, time to sit and watch her and my wife scoot around the ring." If I only knew what was coming. Yes, big eyes looking at me: "But DADDY I wanted you to skate with me" so off I go to rent some skates. Well another fun thing, I have large feet - 14EE - and getting my size shoe is not like getting shoes for others. Back to the story. I get some skates that are too small, put them on and remember I hated skating when I was a kid. Skoot skoot slip skoot skoot grab the wall skoot skoot oh crap if I fall I am going to crush someone...where is Sara? Where is that other little girl? This was a bad idea! Off come the skates. Big eyes "DADDY YOU DONT WANT TO PLAY WITH ME?". Well now I feel guilty and uncoordinated! Okay, let's try another pair, it was the skates' fault. Go back, get another pair, put them on scoot scoot slip "oh shit ". Well it was fun to see my little family on skates. I will not try that again! (well until the big eyes make me do it)