In which Mom goes to Paris and Dad goes crazy.
First off, it wasn't that bad. Still, there's a reason the first picture is of Owen holding a devil.
We've talked about Aunt Lisa before. Well, she's never been to Europe and, frankly, that just seemed like a sin. And so it was a must that Robin take her to Paris to see the sights.
I thought it would be wonderful. Robin would get to show one of our favorite people one of our favorite places. I would get to spend some quality time with my boy showing the world that I could be a competent father. What was I thinking?
They left on Saturday. At 3 a.m. Sunday morning I was offering Owen a thousand dollars for 30 minutes of sleep. He refused.
Monday was worse as Owen ignited with some evil fever and spent the day dragging me around the house sadly chanting, "mamamama....." I was ready to throw in the towel, but he turned the corner Tuesday night and I actually got in six or so hours of sleep a night for the rest of the week. By Saturday we were even friends again and I enjoyed regular high-fives and even the occasional "dadadadada....."
Meanwhile, on distant shores, Robin, Lisa and four of their girlfriends were seeing the sights. Robin did her traditional phenomenal job snapping pictures. Collectively I believe they boosted the French economy by a good number of Euros. Unfortunately, Robin contracted some sort of bronchial plague and spent two days sleeping (which, for those of you who have been to Paris, is a crime!).
Happily, everyone has made it home safe and sound. Robin floats on a healthy dose of cough suppressing narcotics and I have enjoyed as much as SEVEN hours of sleep. (Robin changed last night's poopy diaper. It was like I'd gone to heaven.)
Owen couldn't be happier to have his mother home and is rapidly on his way to forgetting me again.
All is right in the world.
