Snap, Crackle, Pops

This morning I was eating cereal (as usual) and reading the Sunday paper. Even though the kids are at the age that they sleep a little later, I usually get up early and start the day with coffee, cereal, and some sort of newspaper or magazine while everyone else is asleep. This morning Steffi told my wife and I that she usually hears me downstairs, particularly the cereal pouring into the bowl. She said she enjoys hearing that sound because it lets her know that dad is home. She had a big smile when she told us that. It made me smile because all this time I figured I was having "alone time" when in fact I was sharing a moment with my daughter and didn't even know it.

Medical Advice From a Five-Year-Old

Jess has not been feeling well the last few days; she's got a cold and is not her usual self. I haven't been feeling great either, and I'm sure I got whatever bug she has. She spent Saturday sleeping, watching a little TV, and generally lying around trying to feel better. I started Saturday running a bunch of errands, and had about 6 more things on the to do list when I realized that the lounging on the couch thing didn't look like such a bad idea. So I hit the man room, turned on the Ryder Cup, and didn't feel guilty about not completing the list. Thanks Jess, for reminding me that sometimes the best thing "to do" is nothing at all.

Awesome

My daughters love to use the word "awesome." I've heard this word in reference to everything from a video iPod to finding the last Popsicle in the freezer. It's used to describe any Jonas Brothers-related item. Finding a lost pencil, sticker, toy or stuffed animal stuck between their bed and the wall always elicits an awesome. Fixing anything for them. Awesome.

Recently I found out our current President is a big fan of this word as well. He is 62 years old. My girls are 5 and 8.

Awesome.

Dad, What are you doing?

I get asked this question a lot. This morning it was during Jessica's soccer game. I helped coach Jesse's team today because the assistant coach didn't show up. Since she and her teammates are five, coaching means keeping the ball in bounds and pointing them toward the right goal. After about five minutes, Jessica notices I'm not leaving the field, and in a low voice that was almost a whisper asks, "Dad, what are you doing?" I told her I was helping coach her team. I'm not a coach. I'm Dad. The guy with the silly jokes. The one who will play in the rain and ride bikes and kill the bugs in her room. But to her credit, she accepted me as Coach, came in and out of the game when I asked, and scored a few goals as well. I had a lot of fun. I hope the assistant coach doesn't show up next week.