Friday.....

Today was a bad day.

It had nothing to do with my dad - my son is sick. He had been running around yesterday morning, we played lightsabers, and I was tossing him up in the air with my legs. We went to the park, and he didn't want to get out of the car. He walked over to where I had put my chair, crawled into my lap and slept the entire time. One of my friends lent me a blanket to put over him. He woke up and said he wanted to go home, so we did.

The two of us were up all night, he would scream and unfortunatly 9 times out of 10 it was right in my ear.

So today was all messed up. We got up 1 1/2 hours late, I dragged myself to the treadmill while he dozed on the bed. We tried to do stuff to get going, but everyone was in a funk. By about 12 I realized we were just not going to make it to Lego Club. I had decided that I would drop LegoQueen off and come back home with the little ones. But honestly - I wasn't even out of my workout clothes, I hadn't showered. I had made banana bread muffins to take to Lego Club, and I had flour all over me. Don't ask - I don't even know.
At 4 I finally got into the bath. Dinner was cooking. AFter the bath I felt better, but the day was almost over! Fine time for me to feel better!

Thanks to everyone who signed my dad's guestbook - it brings a smile to my face to see a new entry! I am working on getting my family to sign it too.

Today I found myself wishing that this was just one big hoax. Sure - I'd be pissed, and I would never speak to my dad ever again....
:P
But its not - and that is what I find myself having to face.

I am being urged to remember the good times, so here are a few memories:

After my parents split, we never celebrated Christmas on Christmas Day. We always opened gifts on the eve, and no Christmas was complete unless we watched A Garfield Christmas, and Its Christmas, Charlie Brown. My dad loved those Peanuts movies.
On Christmas Day, we would have the family back over and we would go out.

On Christmas Day.

So usually the only people out were the Jewish, the Asians, and the other groups that don't celebrate. Once, my Hongo got permission from his parents to come to my dad's after their Christmas so that he could come to the movie theater with us. We all went to the dollar theater and saw RoboCop (I don't recall what version it was) one year. Ah - my dad loved RoboCop too.

And every Christmas we kids got bubbles. It didn't matter how old we were, we could expect to find some bubbles under the tree for us. That was one of the things that my cousin Matthew said he would miss at my dad's funeral. Bubbles. Who was going to buy him his bubbles?
My aunts and my mom always got "Charlie" perfume from him. And the tree - he would go nutso on the tinsel. You know how you're supposed to pluck one at a time and drape it on a branch? Not Dad. He would grab clumps and toss them on the tree. So there would be a ton on one branch, and nothing anywhere else on the tree.