Its FRIDAY!!!

Its Friday!! Time to let go, to let loose, let it all hang out. Time to hit the beach, hit the clubs, hit the bars, hit a movie. Time to go looking for girls, looking for trouble, looking for adventure. Time for pool parties, beer parties, wild parties. Time to take a woman on a date, take a vacation from life, take the bikes into the hills. Time for a trip to Vegas, a trip to the ocean, a trip to the mountains.
----REALITY CHECK----
Time to spend time with my daughter, look at the bills, clean the house, go shopping. Time to get the car serviced, do a weeks worth of accumulated laundry, pick up the yard and mow the grass. Time to fix whats been broken during the week, get the stains out of the carpet, change the kitty litter box, clean the fish tank. If I am real lucky, I will be able to take my daughter to the park, to a movie, or squeeze in a barbecue.
This is the reality of a single parent. I wouldn't have it any other way...but sometimes memories of a different life intrude nostalgically on my thoughts. I began to remember my past life and I start the envy the man I used to be. I have to check myself, and REALLY remember. Remember waking up next to a stranger I had no recollection of ever meeting, worshiping at the alter of the porcelain god as I heave my guts out, spending all my money on a night of absolute mayhem, broken ribs, black eyes, broken knuckles. Running from the police, wrecked cars, crying women and angry men. Wondering if I actually used protection, going to the doctor in fear and near panic when I didn't. Waking up in a house that was filled with strangers, the smell of stale beer and vomit. Making really stupid comments through a mental haze trying to impress people I would never associate with when sober. Wondering where all the money went. Spending a small fortune of alcohol that was consumed mostly by others. Not knowing what town I was in when I woke up. Yup...the glory days.
All in all...I am living in the glory days now. I will listen to my friends describe the 'wild' time they had over the weekend as they pop their fifth advil. I will nod and laugh at the appropriate places...but I will know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I spent a glorious weekend in the bosom of my family, with my daughter. That I took a few pictures, listened and was amazed by her observations, her perception, her comments, and her love. She held my hand as we went shopping. She helped me pick out the groceries. She followed me around with her own little vacuum, convinced she was doing just as much work as I. She learned how to do a cannonball in the pool and how to swim underwater. She picked out her own cereal and expounded, in great detail, on the merits of fruit loops. She helped me wax my car and did an outstanding job of waxing the passenger side windows when I wasn't looking. At her request we went to the dollar store and purchased 20 dollars worth of cheap play jewelry which she proceeded to put on our long suffering puppy when we got back to the house. She picked ALL the flowers off the rose bushes for me. She got stung by a bee and didn't cry, but did cry when I foolishly explained to her that the bee would die. We chased down the ice cream truck together. She made me a fathers day card at church that is proudly displayed on my wall next to the rest of her 'modern art'. All this happened last weekend.
I cannot wait to see what will happen this weekend.

Single Dad

It was 0530. I was going to spend the day with my little girl. I got up, all excited. Going to make her some waffles. I stumbled out of bed, headed for the bathroom. I found a surprise. I had recently moved the cat litter box from the bathroom to the laundry room. I suppose in protest, the cat decided to leave me a rather gross opinion of that move in the bathtub. Being a good father, I had to clean the bathtub out. So I did so, cussing the cat the whole time, just grateful that my daughter wasn't up yet. After bleaching and cleaning the tub (my daughter bathed there, for crying out loud) I took a shower. After the shower I headed to the newly carpeted laundry room. I then found out exactly why the cat had left me such a disgusting present in the bathtub. Our dog had left me a number of presents on our newly carpeted floor. The reason our normally house broke dog did this was apparent. She had eaten everything in the kitty litter box. It evidently hadn't set well with her. I, being a responsible parent, quickly cleaned up the laundry room, applying liberal amounts of carpet cleaner and cussing the dog the entire time. It was now almost 0730, and I knew my daughter would soon wake up. I got the bacon out and began frying on the griddle. I thought it would be wonderful for her to wake up to the smell of bacon. I was just about to flip the bacon when my daughter walks in, stark naked, and crying. Evidently she had wet her bed for the first time in months and had stripped out of her wet clothes. She was mortified. As any good father would do, I ran her a bath, put her in it, washed her up, stripped her bed, put her sheets in the washing machine, and was headed back to the bathroom to get her when the fire alarm went off. My daughter started screaming in almost the exact same shrill pitch of the alarm. It took almost fifteen minutes, but I was able to calm my daughter down, kill the fire alarm, and throw the charcoal that used to be bacon away. I got my daughter out, dressed, and sitting at the breakfast table. I started a new batch of bacon. When they were done, I put them on her plate, put her waffles in the toaster (a new one, never been used), and decided to fry an egg up for myself. I was just getting ready to flip the egg when my daughter let out a very angry yell. The cat had jumped on to the table, very interested in my daughters bacon. I grabbed the cat, knocking over my daughters juice in the process, and flung the miserable thing across the room. As I turned to rescue my daughter from eminent drowning by orange juice, I heard a yowl from behind me. The cat had landed next to the burner. Cat fur, evidently, is highly flammable. After putting out the cat, throwing out the burnt egg, trashing the toaster (which burnt the waffles), and cleaning up my daughter, we went to Dennys. All this happened before 0830. This is the life of a single parent.