Dragostea din tei

Yeah, the numa numa song has been running through my head all day, and so what if I’m mentally stuck in 2004.  Pbbbbbt.  

I have not been having a stunning daddy week, as I’ve had to pick my son up from day care twice this week and both times have resulted in me hauling him out of the building, his coat only precariously on his body, bawling his damn fool little head off.

Well, okay, part of that’s not true; no reasonable human being would ever call my son’s head little.  He’s clearly inherited that part of his anatomy from me.

Anyway.  Point is, there’s been something every time, and I’m pretty sure that the next time I need to pick him up I’m going to have to find a way to kill an hour before I do it.   I get off work before my wife does, so when I pick him up he’s one of the first kids to leave, and everybody’s in full play mode.  When she picks him up, other kids have left first and things are calming down for the day and he’s a little more prepared to leave.  He’s also thrown fits about putting his coat on both days; he has this genuinely obnoxious tic about his sleeves where they have to not only be just the right length but the sleeves on his shirt must also be of the proper length and visible from his coat sleeves.  When he doesn’t want to put on the coat, the sleeve obsession makes the entire process roughly four dozen times as obnoxious as it needs to be.

Today, making things worse, once I got him out to the car in his coat, I realized that we really haven’t adjusted the straps on the car seat in my car to accommodate his winter coat, so the winter coat that caused all sorts of stress and nonsense to get him into then had to be taken off of him before I could actually get him strapped in properly and brought home.  Come to think of it, we’ll have to fix that tonight, because I think tomorrow I have to take him to day care, and I’ll be damned if I’m bringing my three-year-old into day care without his coat on in the weather we’re going to be having tomorrow morning.  So… yay.

(The first time we walked out, I walked past the reception desk and said “I swear he’s mine” to them as he struggled and tried to get out of my arms and screamed.  Today it was “He’s still mine, but if this happens again this week he can be yours if you want.”  Because I am a champion as a parent.)