Jeff has been traveling a ton lately; we’re averaging four days a week. It sucks for all of us, and he feels major guilt about being away from the kids so much. To try and make up for it, every weekend, Fun Dad comes out to play. Fun Dad takes the big kids to the zoo and to the mall. To the park and to the children’s museum. Out for ice cream and for chocolate covered marshmallows. Fun Dad is great fun. Great fun for everyone but me.
Fun Dad comes home, exhausted from his escapades and passes out on the couch. Scary Mommy is left to deal with the children’s massive sugar highs and inevitable tummy aches. I scrub caramel off their teeth, chocolate off of their faces and diarrhea from one of their diapers. I travel back to the mall to return the unnecessary and ill fitting clothing that Fun Dad purchased. I strictly enforce weekdays of decent eating to make up for the weekend junk food consumption. I deal with the whining and expectations that accompany being spoiled. But, I really haven’t really minded any of it. That was, until the day Fun Dad took the kids to Build-a-Bear.
I have standards. I like to spoil the kids too, every now and then. But not like this. I’ll buy Lily pretty clothes and cute stuffed animals and the classiest Barbie Dolls. Ben gets cars and trucks and dinosaurs. Sure, I’ll buy them things they like, but I would never have allowed this to happen:
(Are you nauseous? Me too.) I don’t even know where to start. The pink polka dot fur? The heart tattoo? The outfit? The purse? The bows? The picture just doesn’t do it justice. This would never have happened on my watch– if I ever actually allowed the kids to build a bear (unlikely, as I could never justify forty bucks on a stuffed animal,) they’d be simple and classic. Maybe, I’d allow the cheerleading attire, but not on a pink polka bear. I just wouldn’t be able to stomach it. But Lily loves her, and she’s certainly one of a kind. I realize that’s the point. And I realize they’re pretty lucky to have Fun Dad.