Who's Your Daddy?

So Lillian is officially a first grader.  She can read.  She can write.  She knows what lockers are.  When Grady was at school recently, he thought the lockers were cages.  He told me he really liked the cages.   I like cages too Grady.  You wanna get in?

Now Lil will be home every day.  Home for the entire day.  Every day.  Home for approximately seventy, entire days.  Not that I'm counting.  I will have four children at home.  Monday through Friday.  And I'm not counting Sean.  I recently swiped someone else's kid.  His name is Gavin.  He is three.  I'm trying to convince him that he likes cages lockers too.  Gavin is the son of a friend of mine.  She trusts me not to put him in cages. 

Recently, I took Grady, Gavin and Dempsey to Home Depot.  On a Monday morning at 8:30am.  If you are ever in need of a baby daddy, this is the time and place to go.  There are hoards of men.  Everywhere.  However, I have all the baby daddy that I need.  I was on the hunt for Rust-Oleum.  So I could spray paint the kids some random color for whatever holiday is coming up next. 




The St. Patrick's Day painting event.

Dempsey thinks he is hilarious.  He innocently looks at each man he sees at Home Depot and asks, "Daddy?"  Or more definitively roars, "Hi Daddy!".  

Gavin and Grady, who also find themselves to be quite funny, follow Dempsey's lead.  So now I have a cart full of two and three year olds shouting out "DADDY" at random men.  At Home Depot.  At 8:30am.  On a Monday morning.  I could have said, Yes, you are right, you little smart asses  boys,  they all do look like your daddies. Since in fact, the trio did have multiple daddies...but that didn't sound quite right either.

Where the hell are the cages?  Or the duct tape?  Damn you Home Depot.  Or should I now refer to you as Daddy Depot?  You should have duct tape in every aisle. 

I didn't find a new baby daddy at Home Depot.  But I did find other things this week. 

I found Dempsey picking up a piece of poop from the bathroom floor at the pool. 

The day after that, I unearthed a rock from the bottom of the washing machine.  Only to discern that this particular rock was made of poop.  Why of course it was!

Last night, Sean and I fell upon a bigfoot booby trap right in our very own bedroom.

And then of course, after the booby trap was set, my beloveds had to prepare a home for bigfoot.  And his family.  So they could crash at our place.  Maybe bigfoot is a woman after all.  And they are also searching for their baby daddy.

I could barely find my baby daddy in all this mess.  But eventually, I did.  And spared myself another trip to Home Depot.

Happy Father's Day... to my one and only... baby daddy.