Today will not go down in history as a good one for my son Logan and I. In fact, if you’re going to read this, you need to swear to secrecy that you will not tell anyone about the events which have taken place. It was the first day of school for our boy’s three older sisters who all ride home on the bus. They usually arrive here sometime in the afternoon around 3pm. They’ve been getting home at that time now for the last two years, but for some reason, I got it in my head they wouldn’t be home until 3:30. So at about 3:09 I realized my mistake and frantically ran outside to see if other parent were still waiting for the bus or if they were all gone. Luckily, it had just arrived, but the worse was yet to come. Apparently, Logan had been playing dress up and came running out the door behind me with no shirt on and wearing red, shiny, high heeled shoes. Now, the boy and me aren’t exactly macho men, but I would at least like us to keep up the appearance of being somewhat manly.
These type of reputations however, cannot be achieved by clippety, clopping down the middle of the street in red, high heeled shoes! I was torn between decisions, do I take Logan back to the house and lock him in a closet, (Okay, I wouldn’t actually lock him in a closet) or continue on and pick up my little girls from the bus. Having been so late, I really had no choice but to continue on. So, here’s me, running down the street with my shirtless companion and his red shoes of shame about ten feet behind, screaming, “Daddy, Daddy!” Yes, we were an act that couldn’t be missed, In fact I’m pretty sure everyone was staring at us. You see, this just isn’t what a father envisions his son to be wearing, especially in front of the public. Logan however, seemed completely satisfied with his new found attire and was proudly pointing out his shoes to everyone saying the words, “See, see!” I can only take comfort in knowing there were just a few neighbors who witnessed this event and most of them have sworn not to talk. As for the others, well, there are ways they can be silenced…. So, all threats aside, I’m starting to believe having three sisters might be affecting my sons good judgment and here are 10 reasons why having all sister siblings can be a bad thing:
1: Hand me downs: After having three kids, us parents start getting less and less particular and more and more tired. Suddenly, complacency sets in and Logan starts getting dressed in hand me down pink shirts and we let him ride pink big wheels the girls have grown out of.
2: The blame game: I’m not sure if it’s a girl thing and they’ve made some sort of pact or if it’s because he doesn’t talk yet, but all three girls blame Logan for every bad thing that happens, it’s always, “Logan Did It!” from all three.
3: Pony tails and hair clips: Will someone please tell my son that guys don’t wear these things!
4: Dolls: I’ve seen my son playing with enough dolls to last a lifetime. They’re everywhere around here and frankly, I think they’re just plain scary looking. When I was a kid, all the scary movies had dolls in them!
5: Play Nice: It’s impossible to rough house with our girls because they are very dramatic and a small shove by Logan is quickly converted into a, “Mom, Logan hit me!”
6: Play time: I don’t even want to start talking about dresses or the girls “Dressing up” my poor, confused boy.
7: Pretty Nails: For some reason, all four women in my family are more than happy to paint Logan’s finger nails and then make comments on how cute he looks. Then, sadly, all Dad can do is watch as Logan goes up to every complete stranger he can to show them how pretty his nails are.
8: Not enough boy toys: My son is smaller than the girls and many times fights and wins the battle for toys they are playing with, in which I applaud him for his efforts! However, this victory is soon marred when I find out he was fighting to play with a purse.
9: Silly bands: They’re small, silly and all different colors. I don’t know if a lot of boys are wearing these things, but, I find my son and even myself wearing them all the time thanks to our girls influence.
10: Too much information: Finally, the worst thing about having three girls as siblings has to do with baths. I know my son can’t fully talk yet, but I am dreading the day when they are all taking a bath and he asks me why the girls don’t have the same, uh… parts as he does and they all look to Daddy for an explanation. Some nights, Daddy wakes up in a cold sweat thinking about this one.
***Please send this to your friends so they can enjoy a chuckle today too!***