Small Victories

LMJ still isn’t a hundred percent, not that it slows her down at all. She just has a stuffy nose and the barest hint of a fever, but like I said she’s all go. We started the day with some oatmeal, and my learning that you can’t cook two servings in the microwave. It may be possible, but there aren’t any instructions on the box. I could have put it in a big bowl and doubled the cooking time, but I’m sure that if I had done that I would still be cleaning oatmeal out of the microwave. She has oatmeal every morning. I rarely have oatmeal. The only reason I had it this morning is because I’m lazy. I didn’t want to cook two breakfasts, and it’s not like oatmeal is bad for you. I also did it because if I give her oatmeal and make eggs and toast, especially cheese toast, for myself then her breakfast is her breakfast and my breakfast is our breakfast. We played in the sunroom/school/museum/library until the baby girl started getting insistent about watching some more television. Keeping her television limited is difficult because I really like all of the shows, but I did the responsible dad thing and fed her some week old mac ‘n cheese and then we went outside and played in the back yard. I’m worried about my influences on her when we’re outside. I’m relieved that she’s a girl and won’t absorb all of the dumb stuff that I do. We were playing with her kickball so I kicked it, hard. It flew over the fence hit the next door neighbors’ garage apartment chimney and bounced back into my yard. A reasonable person would count his blessings and stop with the aggressive ball play. It’s too bad there wasn’t a reasonable person outside with us. We were playing softball and I hit ball over the fence, even though I was consciously trying not to hit the ball over the fence, but it was windy and I hit a plastic softball in the air. The sad part is that this isn’t the first time and won’t be the last. At least, for now, the stupidity is limited to me. The upside was that we got to have an adventure trespassing into the neighbors’ yard. We played outside for another twenty minutes and no other balls left the yard. Maybe I am maturing. Not that it matters, I’m calling it a win.