I got up around eight to get "capri-sun's" and waters and lemonades, and then it was back to the house to Gymnastics, or as Amelie calls it. "Gymnaskicks."
She rolled and rolled over the nearby obstacles and pads. (She absolutely loves tumbling and is unnerved by the "balance beams"). Her trainer is a woman called Coach Brittany who is a very kind woman and very attentive to the lives of 6 year old girls, who run the gambit to satisfy her commands.
My first dog (as an Adult) went on a brisk walk where after a year, we met the actual neighbors who live at the end of the dead end of 10th street. Deano has a habit of getting frisky when he walks, and he also has a habit of getting tissue paper and chewing it up--rrrrr, rrrrrr, rrrrr!
I'm sure this would be charming if he was much younger and it was confined to his toys, but at present Deano has earned Hollie's unending "ire" for his Tissue hobby, particularly, because he flips the bathroom trash can over to get to the "said tissues" for tearing.Amelie has made out like a bandit. She has new toys out the yin and yang. Said Toys can now be added to the hoarde she got for christmas, and she has now two "Nightfury" dragons.. Indeed, one was bad enough, but two dragons will now loop and fight in her hands for days.
I expect she will do this for days. The party at University of Gymnastics was masterfully hosted by by Coach Brittany who tried to keep us from doing almost everything. Coach Yo, another male coach also kept the children occupied. Most of the parents there were charming, including Kaylin's mom and Abby's mom and Jordan's mom who talked with Hollie for a while.
Grandma Taylor seemed delighted. She's also lost so much weight on her plan that i want to kick myself for not taking part in. The dragon cake was delivered, and afterward, the kids did the ceremonial watching of Amelie open her presents, which i'm not sure how i feel about.
When i was a kid, presents were opened at home, which changed occasionally. I guess the idea is simple. Every kid has his day, but if they open the presents in private, tehre's no hurt feelings--no sense of jealousy.
Of course with 7 year-olds, the use of cards, birthday cards, seems a little off. Amelie can barely read, and when she doesn't want to read, try pushing her. So, I sat behind her and read the cards to everyone. This of course garnered many oohs and "aaahs, and awwwws," but after that, we packed up. Oh, a side note was she got a dragon cake, which i will post pictures of. My sister-in-law to be is very talented and has many examples of her work.
Hollie has gone to work and it is me and Amelie, who is watching Spongebob and half blissfully unaware there was even a party tonight.
Fatherhood. That's something I've fuddled my head up against many times.
Already, i feel sad, as I cook a home-style bake, which does not burn--let me make this clear, but sets off the fire alarm. I tell Amelie its okay, and let me repeat, my dish is not burned, not in the least! Still, the alarm goes off, I tell her its okay and she goes into panic mode. I take the smoke detector down, and she says, with a distinct edge in her voice. "It's loud because of burning."
I pause for a second. To explain this further would do nothing. Yet, I can tell, she believes i have burned the dish. I have not. I invite her into the kitchen to see the golden brown casserole. She declines.
Right about now my ego has been kicked in the balls.
Yes, it has. So I just smile and move on.
I didn't burn it folks.
Anyway. When I place this dog and my daughter-to-be side by side, I realizes that many things in this life require care. Even my fragile ego, which gets excited and anxious at plans and can splinter at the thought of being blamed for a casserole i clearly did not burn.
Dog Handler. Capri-sun buyer. "Gymnaskicks Dad." "Writer." "Birthday card Reader." Casserole cook (Burner.) I'm coming along in the world.
Now if i can only keep the dog from being a "tissue chewer"--I'm set.
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