Men are genius, at least when it comes to being on parent duty with the kids. The other day my oldest boy was playing two games of basketball in a four hour time period. While my husband stayed with the other three children, I took my son to his game, watched the game in leisure, had lunch, bought myself a coffee while he practiced for his second game, I read, did my devotional, and enjoyed some alone time.
At the start of the second game, the championship game, I spoke with my husband and he assured me that he was staying home since the little ones were napping. As I was getting comfortable court-side, my friend mentioned that she saw my husband. I then expected my relaxation to end figuring the little ones had woken up and would come screaming around the corner ready to jump into my lap and distract me for the entire 45 minutes.
I kept watching and saw no children. He was alone. “How did he do it?” I questioned to myself. His smug expression warranted an explanation. “Where are the little ones?” He smiled. I called your mom and she is babysitting. Swell. A woman would sit and sulk at home while Dad did all the game-going and men, well, they are genius. They are fixers. They call people. He probably would have convinced the eight year old neighbor boy if he got really desperate but my mom happened to be available since she was too nervous to attend my son'a championship game.
We enjoyed the game together even though the "Knights" lost the championship by 5 points. My mother was happy to help. Go figure. Next time, I'm calling the neighbor boy. He has Play Station.
At the start of the second game, the championship game, I spoke with my husband and he assured me that he was staying home since the little ones were napping. As I was getting comfortable court-side, my friend mentioned that she saw my husband. I then expected my relaxation to end figuring the little ones had woken up and would come screaming around the corner ready to jump into my lap and distract me for the entire 45 minutes.
I kept watching and saw no children. He was alone. “How did he do it?” I questioned to myself. His smug expression warranted an explanation. “Where are the little ones?” He smiled. I called your mom and she is babysitting. Swell. A woman would sit and sulk at home while Dad did all the game-going and men, well, they are genius. They are fixers. They call people. He probably would have convinced the eight year old neighbor boy if he got really desperate but my mom happened to be available since she was too nervous to attend my son'a championship game.
We enjoyed the game together even though the "Knights" lost the championship by 5 points. My mother was happy to help. Go figure. Next time, I'm calling the neighbor boy. He has Play Station.
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