How to be a Perfect Father. The aftermath

(I could have called this post “SAVED BY PIZZA”, but more on that later.)

We made it.  And it was done without any kicking, screaming, beating or one of us shivering in a corner with suicidal tendencies.  The angels my wife raised seems to portray the same remarkable qualities even without her presence.  She’s that good.  As a matter of fact, we actually set the bar quite high, and dare I say it was easy…

Son was a breeze, evidence that men are uncomplicated beings.  Give a guy food, entertainment and a warm bed and Bob’s not just your uncle, Bob moves in and stays a while.

Princess was less than a breeze, evidence that woman are not like men.

I call her Princess as she embodies all of the Disney’s characters at some point during the day.  She has the strength and commitment of that redhead chick from Brave, the inquisitive mind of The Little Mermaid, the sense of duty of Beauty, not the Beast, the adventurous spirit of Princess Fiona and the stubbornness of Rapunzel.  But last night she exuded the sensitivity of the Princess and the Pea,  in other words a raging insomniac.

I tried to understand the intricate mind of a little girl who cannot sleep.  It took bucket loads of patience and wheelbarrows of sympathy to not show my frustration. She profusely rejected my theory that the pain she’s feeling, was actually only in her mind as a result of Mommy not being here.  Eventually I resorted to drugs.  Gave her some pain medication for the weird, stinging pain in her nether regions, as she diagnosed herself.  By 11 o’ clock Sandman finally won the battle and I’m grateful for I was about to turn into a pumpkin, already showing a little amber around the edges.

This morning went like a well oiled theme park ride.  Fun, fun , fun.  Everything was completed with ample time to spare.  We even sat around and watch who got kicked off Masterchef Australia.  Son stated the obvious, expressing his thoughts on why couldn’t it be like this every morning.  We normally run around like a family of headless chickens, and today, with Mom MIA, it went by uneventful.

Cheat food, in more ways than one.

Cheat food, in more ways than one.

What he doesn’t know, is the one trade secret shared amongst all men who’s ever had to run the gauntlet of an evening without the wife: PIZZA.

Make sure you order enough so that the leftovers can be used for breakfast and school lunches the next day.  You’ll save hours of time and the kids will love you for it.  You can even watch a movie and have a glass of wine.  It’s that effective.

But kids, remember what we talked about last night: “Don’t tell Mom.”