I Smell a Coup
Quiet moments. Solitude. A good cup of coffee. These things make me happy. These things are seldom found in my household. Except for the coffee. That's always here. My mother-in-law might tend to disagree with me on the coffee, she thinks I make it too strong. I prefer the term bold. Then again, she prefers Instant so I don't really count her as a credible critic.
This morning I was enjoying a rare hat trick--quiet, solitude and coffee. My wife had to be at work early and woke me to braid her hair. That's right. I braid my wife's hair. What's more, I do it well enough that she entrusts her golden locks to my groggy hands before she heads out of the door to face a discerning world. I'm a man of many facets. In fact, later today I'll be painting my daughter's fingernails. Welcome to Salon de Ed.
Back to the hat trick.
Unable to return to sleep, I made my way downstairs for the coffee pot. I sat in silence, alone and soaked it all in. The sun was making it's way skyward, birds were singing and life was good. It was not yet 7:00am.
Before long my respite was broken by the pitter-patter of feet, unable to walk--always running. I was easily able to determine their path. Bedroom. Hallway. Bathroom--wait for it---wait for it--(flush) thank you--and Stairs. There were at least two of them. Maybe more.
Zoë peered into the living room where I sat holding my coffee. "Good morning, Daddy." Zane was with her.
"Morning. What are you guys doing up so early?"
"We're going downstairs to clean the playroom."
And with that announcement they disappeared as did the euphoria of my solitary morning replaced now with fears of what might lay in store for the rest of the day.
This morning I was enjoying a rare hat trick--quiet, solitude and coffee. My wife had to be at work early and woke me to braid her hair. That's right. I braid my wife's hair. What's more, I do it well enough that she entrusts her golden locks to my groggy hands before she heads out of the door to face a discerning world. I'm a man of many facets. In fact, later today I'll be painting my daughter's fingernails. Welcome to Salon de Ed.
Back to the hat trick.
Unable to return to sleep, I made my way downstairs for the coffee pot. I sat in silence, alone and soaked it all in. The sun was making it's way skyward, birds were singing and life was good. It was not yet 7:00am.
Before long my respite was broken by the pitter-patter of feet, unable to walk--always running. I was easily able to determine their path. Bedroom. Hallway. Bathroom--wait for it---wait for it--(flush) thank you--and Stairs. There were at least two of them. Maybe more.
Zoë peered into the living room where I sat holding my coffee. "Good morning, Daddy." Zane was with her.
"Morning. What are you guys doing up so early?"
"We're going downstairs to clean the playroom."
And with that announcement they disappeared as did the euphoria of my solitary morning replaced now with fears of what might lay in store for the rest of the day.
Posted by Zoe's Dad at Tuesday, July 08, 2008 8:14 AM and is filed under Solitude,Cynicism,Utopia,good coffee 
They were cleaning and that's a problem!? My kids think that if the playroom looks like a bomb just hit it, then their work is done.
Quit while you're ahead: never go into that playroom again.
I would be be a bit concerned as well if my eldest Diva did this in my home as well. Maybe it is all for the best and they are simply being sweet kids today...you just never know! Look forward to hearing the results of the day and see whether the playroom actually got picked up or not. Last night in our house when I arrived home from work, Diva-J's room looked like a tornado hit it and she was unwilling to pick anything up... so definitely not the willingness that you found this morning.... after some cajoling on my part, she ended up cleaning up.... but I would have much rather gotten the tacit cleaning without even asking (more than once that is)
Somehow I can never get that morning solitude for more than a very few minutes. It's like they just know I'm up and enjoying some peace. It wouldn't matter if I was up at 5 am or not, they would somehow know, and be up within 15 minutes themselves.
I like the image of Zoe's Dad with talents that include braiding your wife's hair and painting your daughter's nails, despite the fact that organizing photos is not among your talents.
Thanks for your kind words over at "my place"
I'm not a morning person, but I like those rare occasions when I'm up before Clare too. By the way, I've painted her fingernails too.
If I can actually drag myself out of bed, I've been enjoying my morning cuppa pulling weeds all by myself in the flowerbed, and its awesome.
As my mom would say, "Are you braggin' or complainin'?"
I don't care for waking early, but there definitely some perks.
Hey, that's a coffee pun!
Vicki--somehow I don't imagine Gilly offering to clean the playroom on her own.
RTK--I took a picture, so I've got that.
Dad of Divas--They even vacuumed. Later in the day they washed the van. They haven't asked for anything, yet...yet!
MGM--If I didn't have flaws people might think I wasn't real. Even Underdog had a weakness, right?
Darren--The hard part is to keep Zella's fingers out of her mouth until the polish dries.
Gette--I did the weeds all day yesterday. Today, I need traction!
Kissin' Time--Love that quote.
Whit--I would much prefer my solitude in the middle of the night--Oh, and we don't joke about coffee around here.
Salon de Ed - can I make an appointment for my kids
When my kids say they're going to clean something, I feel their heads for signs of a fever and I ask them if they're feeling okay.
Jeremy--Bring em by anytime. This salon never closes.
Momo--Oddly enough, Zia had a fever this morning. Coincidence??
Holy crap... you take care of the kids, the house, AND braid hair? Your family is damn lucky, sir.
And no. Never venture forth into that playroom again... for your own good.
I always say I'm going to make someone a good wife.
This...
There were at least two of them. Maybe more.
... sent a shiver down my spine.
I was a bit nervous myself.
Hair braider? Coffee maker? Baby watcher? You are certainly a keeper!
I had a buddy from Avoylles Parish that used to tell me all of the time, "Ed, you're a good man--but the woods are full of them."