Once upon a time
Well before I met Michelle and got married and all of that, my life completely revolved around my daughter. From the time I would pick her up from daycare on Friday, until I returned her on Sunday at 6:00, it was just me and her. No one else mattered. I didn’t like to share my time with her with anyone.
Our routine went like this: I’d get off work at 3:00 on those Fridays, and drive the 118 miles to Trussville (suburb of Birmingham, NE of the city). On a good day I’d get there around 4:30-4:45. I’d load her up into the car and we’d be off. On the days that I could make it back to I-65 before 5:00, we’d just drive straight home. On the days I couldn’t, we’d stop to eat dinner. Usually at hooters. She still loves to go there, and the girl is not afraid of hot wings.
After we got back to Montgomery and I made my exit (she used to ask me where I lived, and I’d tell her “Montgomery”-but to her it sounded like I said “My Gomery”, so when we’d get to our exit she’d exclaim “Look daddy, there’s your Gomery!”), we’d stop at Bruno’s to purchase her supplies for the weekend-diapers, juice, snacks, and usually some kind of toy.) We’d usually get home around 8:00, and then it was bath time and story time, and off to bed.
We’d get up early Saturday morning to go get breakfast, usually at Cracker barrel (it’s still her favorite place), and we’d be gone most of the day. I’d take her to the park to feed the ducks, to the mall to look at people ice skate, walking around the neighborhood, visiting friends, etc. We’d usually stop somewhere for lunch.
One particular day I decided that I wanted to go to Schlotzky’s Deli and have a great sandwich. She wanted taco bell. So I took her next door to taco bell first, and got her a bean burrito kids meal, and we walked back over to the deli to order my sandwich. As we were sitting there eating, I offered her a bite of my sandwich. She looks at it, looks up at me, back at the sandwich, and with the most absolutely puzzled look on her face, says “it’s got leaves on it.”
I laughed so hard that I had tears. She was completely serious-I had leaves on my sandwich, and therefore I should not be eating it. I told her it was lettuce, and she said “you mean like salad?” and I told her yes, that is correct. She thought for a second, and said “I don’t like salad on my sandwiches. You eat it.”
From then on whenever we’d go someone where for Mexican food, I’d let her order her own food, and she’s always get a taco and tell the waiter “with no salad on it.”
That little girl will be a woman soon. Time moves so quickly.
Our routine went like this: I’d get off work at 3:00 on those Fridays, and drive the 118 miles to Trussville (suburb of Birmingham, NE of the city). On a good day I’d get there around 4:30-4:45. I’d load her up into the car and we’d be off. On the days that I could make it back to I-65 before 5:00, we’d just drive straight home. On the days I couldn’t, we’d stop to eat dinner. Usually at hooters. She still loves to go there, and the girl is not afraid of hot wings.
After we got back to Montgomery and I made my exit (she used to ask me where I lived, and I’d tell her “Montgomery”-but to her it sounded like I said “My Gomery”, so when we’d get to our exit she’d exclaim “Look daddy, there’s your Gomery!”), we’d stop at Bruno’s to purchase her supplies for the weekend-diapers, juice, snacks, and usually some kind of toy.) We’d usually get home around 8:00, and then it was bath time and story time, and off to bed.
We’d get up early Saturday morning to go get breakfast, usually at Cracker barrel (it’s still her favorite place), and we’d be gone most of the day. I’d take her to the park to feed the ducks, to the mall to look at people ice skate, walking around the neighborhood, visiting friends, etc. We’d usually stop somewhere for lunch.
One particular day I decided that I wanted to go to Schlotzky’s Deli and have a great sandwich. She wanted taco bell. So I took her next door to taco bell first, and got her a bean burrito kids meal, and we walked back over to the deli to order my sandwich. As we were sitting there eating, I offered her a bite of my sandwich. She looks at it, looks up at me, back at the sandwich, and with the most absolutely puzzled look on her face, says “it’s got leaves on it.”
I laughed so hard that I had tears. She was completely serious-I had leaves on my sandwich, and therefore I should not be eating it. I told her it was lettuce, and she said “you mean like salad?” and I told her yes, that is correct. She thought for a second, and said “I don’t like salad on my sandwiches. You eat it.”
From then on whenever we’d go someone where for Mexican food, I’d let her order her own food, and she’s always get a taco and tell the waiter “with no salad on it.”
That little girl will be a woman soon. Time moves so quickly.