Learning to Let Daddy Help

I found time to write last night.  Lumpy came home and said he’d take care of the baby while I relaxed.  Ah, sweet release of writing!  After a very long day with Cheekies it was perfection.  It was better than a shot of whiskey.  (Can’t have it due to feeding a growing baby.)  It was better than chocolate.  (I have no soy-free chocolate and the store that used to carry it doesn’t carry the good stuff anymore.)  Cheekies didn’t take a nap all day.  Our Jeep is in the shop, so we only have one vehicle.  I ran out of coffee and haven’t had a car to go get more.  (Lumpy isn’t who you send to the store for coffee.)

You can’t imagine how nice it was to hear Phineas and Ferb playing in the other room while I just spent some time writing a short story.  That was until I walked in the living room and saw Cheekies entertaining herself by inspecting her feet.  She was on the floor.  Did I mention she was by herself?  Lumpy was close enough his toe was touching her, but he was on the computer playing a game.

I must admit that I was proud of myself when I just turned and walked out of the room.  Cheekies wasn’t crying.  Lumpy was close enough he could easily pick her up if she needed him.  There was a laptop on the bed.  It had an unfinished story that needed me, too.  Or I needed it.  Life would be just fine if the baby chewed on her foot for a while.  (Her toe may or may not be gnawed off.  But, that is another story.)



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