The ladies are away for a bit, so while they’re off having adventures, I’m reaching into the archives. These are some of my favourite posts from the past few years. Enjoy.

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Dear Monday,

It’s been a week almost since we talked but boy am I glad to see you on the horizon. In fact, it’s been two weeks since we got to our normal routine due to the holiday and I have to say that I am glad you’re back. Really, really, glad

I think you’ve gotten a bad rap over the years. Friday gets all the credit when it should be Monday that gets celebrated.

There’s more than one song about you and how you’re not liked, and I don’t think that’s fair. You should get more credit for all you do. You’re the start of the work week (and school!). You’re the best. In fact you’re better than that. You are loved.

I Love You

Why this profession of my love? Because on Monday it’s been determined that it’s the start of the week and that means the children go back to school.

And when they are in school, they are somebody else’s problem. Somebody other than me is in charge of my little charge. I have had a very long day full of “Hey Dad’s” and I just want a little break to have a single thought in my head uninterrupted. I want to potty in peace.

And so I thought of you, and how you’re so awesome that you come along and take my child away from me if only for a few hours. (Once I get her fed and clothed and on the bus – that’s one area you could work on)

You can pick up the Play-Doh and the crumbs and answer how to spell words ad nauseum and get asked to play “let’s pretend” for the umpteenth time. You can deal with the “I don’t wannas” and the “no’s” and even the full-on meltdown screaming fits I have experienced this weekend while you were away. You can read books and get water and make pancakes for breakfast.

You can fold laundry and sweep floors and find snacks and matching pairs of socks and fight getting into baths and how it’s the wrong shampoo.

You’ve got this, Monday. You had all week to rest and get ready for the big day. You only have one day where you have to take care of things. Tuesday is a lazy bum, and Wednesday gets all the credit for being the mid-week hero,m and Thursday is envious of Friday, but you’re the one we rely on to get things started for the week.

You’ve got this. I’m counting on you.

PS> Don’t forget I packed her a mid-morning snack and her homework is in the big bag she needs to hand in at school.

PPS> She needs to be home at 3:48. Please don’t be late.

Thank you for reading! When you Shop Amazon I get a small commission on what you buy and this costs you nothing. Want to know what else helps? Subscribing. Lastly you can always buy me a coffee. – TH and Co.

The ladies are away for a bit, so while they’re off having adventures, I’m reaching into the archives. These are some of my favourite posts from the past few years. Enjoy.

The Tick

Here’s the scene: I’m at work in the big blue truck with about 10 more deliveries to go before my weekend starts It was hot. I am tired.

Then I get this text message from Beautiful Wife:

Crap. Double Crap. Triple Crap.

A few more text messages and a call to the Pediatrician and we can breathe. The ticks were not on her long enough for her to be hurt. Today’s tick lesson for you: they have to be on for 36 hours to be a problem. That’s good to know!

Apparently the situation was not good. There was one found on the back of her leg when she was on the potty and I am told that all the um, “business” stopped and the screaming and tears began.

I am glad I missed that. By the time I got old blue parked and I was home you would not guess that there was the tick crisis of the summer of 2023

I am told that the ticks happened because the wee one and her two little friends were playing in the playground and decided that laying down in the grass was a good idea. It turns out it wasn’t because the park is on the edge of a small creek with some wildlife like birds, frogs and turtles and also  – ticks!

The new rule is you can play – but no laying down. Keep it moving.  No more tick collecting please

The Fever

The following Friday  I’m once again at work in the big blue truck with about 10 more houses to go before my weekend starts. It was hot. I am tired.

Beautiful Wife sends this text:

The answer was 103.5. Not good folks. not good.

Of course, the child was miserable and ornery and would not take the Tylenol. The flavor we had of course was the wrong flavor. She wanted Grape flavor.

A half hour later we had Grape flavor. Thank you Instacart.

The next trick was trying to get the child to take the Tylenol. No way was the medicine going in the child. Until mommy started to put her shoes on and told her that they were going to the doctors office for medicine and with a needle.

Tylenol was instantly taken by child. Idle threats work some of the time.

We got the fever down and we had her wrapped in ice packs in bed to get her to cool down. The Tylenol worked a little too well because due to a 2 am dose the child was awake and full of activity. She wanted breakfast. It was 6 am. I am still tired from all this.

She wasn’t cured, but was on peak Tylenol and I paid for it at the first light But, I would rather have her feel good. I can sleep when she’s in college.

The bummer with the fever was it’s timing because Friday was her last day at daycare! Pre-K here we come! We were celebrating. We got all dressed up in a “pretty dress” for the big day:

and then as the last souvenir from daycare we get just one last bout of sickness as she heads out the door on her way to “big girl school”. It’s a shame. We had more than  our share of sick from her friends at daycare over the years we had hoped she was immune to to all the cooties by now but aparrently not.

The odd part is that despite she had a fever for most of the weekend she was fairly pleasant to be around. I had feared a long weekend with a miserable kid but it didn’t materialize as we had feared.

We still don’t know the cause of the fever and with a bit of Tylenol in her she’s fine so we are hoping that time, like a lot of other things – will cure this fever too.

Also, new rule: No more laying on the grass at the park. It’s a dangerous world out there.

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I have mixed emotions.

On one hand, I’m my own boss.

On the other hand, being your own boss gets old after the third frozen pizza and you start talking to the dog like it’s a real person.

Today the child had a little going away party with her classmates at school and we shared popsicles and watched a little youtube movie about Argentina1 and then a few goodbyes and we were home trying to make four suitcases worth of stuff fit into three. Not sure how, but we did it.

The child has her own backpack to carry with her tablet and supplies for the plane and then they are off. The leave noon tomorrow and then they arrive at 6am the next day - 3 planes and four airports later.

We’re ready Argentina. The question is - are you?

Oh, speaking of taking off.:

This is going to be my last post here while they’re gone.

This is a favor to you because the Dog and I are really boring and with the two main characters gone for a few months, not much is going to happen - unless you count pizza box stacking as news.

So, in lieu of the day to day stories, I have lined up past stories from the archives to entertain you in their absence. I’ll probably pop in here and there with updates on the adventures there but until they get back the dog and I will be on the couch.

Until next time.

TH and Co.

It’s not a straight wall.

It’s a curved wall. One where the athletic folks easily jump up, and grab the top and hoist themselves up it.

I think. I’ve never done it and nobody in my family has.

Until today:

It’s getting near the end of the season for her class so tonight she had a practice test and I almost didn’t bother watching because in the past it’s been too painful to watch her crawl haflway up and then do the slide of shame to a crumpled ball at the bottom.

But tonight. Tonight it was game on and my little ninja ran towards the warp wall and heaved her up to the top (well, grabbed on) and I could not be more proud because I figured that wall was for the other kids with actual athletic ability and I thought we would never see the peak of this orange mountain.

I was wrong.

As the cool kids say: level unlocked.

Until next time,

TH and Co.

“3 more days”, she piped up from under the covers with just her feet with warm striped socks sticking out from the jumble of blankets and stuffed animals.

She had a lot of questions about the school tonight - what do the uniforms look like they have to wear?1 What about the bell? 2do they have a bell?3 Also, when do I start? 4

And how many planes am I going to be on? 5

And, lots more questions. too many to list here, but for the most part we are ready. 2 days of school left for her here and then 2 months more in Argentina.

I guess we’re ready as we’re going to be at this point other than pack the last of the clean clothes and double check passports and papers are with them when they leave. Tomorrow she has an after school activity and then thursday night she’ll be so excited she won’t sleep.

But tonight. Tonight, we danced.

And then she dried her hair and went to bed. It was a good dance show tonight with streamers. She told me she’s going to do this in the olympics, and then she changed her mind and said she was going to do every sport in the olympics.

On one hand - she’s excited and happy to go
On the other ahd - she doesn’t want to leave Dad.

I am the chosen one. It’s not like she doesn’t get along with BW, but if the child could pick one parent chances are it’s me. BW is okay with that because I am the one that needs to get up and navigate breakfast/clothing choices/schoolbus timing while she feigns sleep during all the commotion.

She made “goodybye” cards for all her teachers last night and even I rated a card so she’s understanding that this is real and happening.

This morning we had a minor bit of tears with 4 minutes to go for the schoolbus:

”DAD, I don’t want to go to Argentina”, I will miss you and I love you…”

I told her that she won’t be missing much - my summer is now pizza, feed dog, uber, mow lawn. repeat. Then I told her that she’s going to have so much fun and she gets to go and learn a new language, make new friends and have an alsado every weekend with friends and family

Also, she can call me anytime she wants and I will answer and she can tell me how much fun she has and I can tell her how much I miss her but am happy she is having a good time.

The tears were short lived and we were actually early for the bus which is amazing because Dad slept in so if she missed the bus it would have totally been on me.

Tonight after school, we tickled until she begged for mercy. She found a loom kit where you’re supposed to end up with a pot holder at the end but she’s not there yet. The attention/difficulty span is not there yet.

Then we hand dinner and danced too Kelly Clarkson singing Christmas songs, of all things.

In four more sleeps there will be a lot of apprehension and fun to be had for the two of them, but once I drop them off at the airport there will definitely be no Christmas song dancing in the living room.

There might be some couch surfing in the living room to allow me to adjust to the family-free lifestyle. You know, just to close my eyes for a bit until I recover from the loss (and until the oven is pre-heated for the pizza)

4 more sleeps.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

BW is busy packing and making lists and weighing suitcases.

The child just wants to be sure her favorite stuffy gets packed

Me? I’m staying home with the Dog.

The reason for all this hand wringing and double checking of the passports is that on Friday morning, both mother and child are getting on an airplane and flying all the way to Argentina for 2.5 months.

BW will be researching her new book.
The child will be going to school and learning spanish by immersion
My mother in law will be there to make sure those two behave.

The dog and I? We’ll be napping on the couch working very hard at home on the honeydo list , ubering a lot and eating frozen pizza and cheerios.

It will be great. For the first five minutes.

And then I will miss them every minute of the day until they come home to me safe and sound where they belong - at home.

But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for each cast member in the family to make this happen. Any other time or circumstance would not work as well and although the child was a little disappointed and apprehensive now she all over this idea as it’s super exciting and now she can’t wait to get on that airplane.

But first, we have to get on that bus four more times this week.

After that, she’ll be BW’s problem. :)

I get the dog.

Depending on the hour I am not sure who gets the better deal.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

A few things to note about this.

1. We’re early.

2. I am not sure what is holding on the little pieces of ribbon on the corners. I am afraid to guess.

3. Ribbon and flowers were on the early Mother’s Day dessert we had tonight:

First, tamales for dinner:

And pink fancy cake for dessert:

I wish I could take credit for this, but this was all BW when it comes to the planning.

Me? I just do the dishes.

Happy Mother’s Day Eve.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

It’s the mornings.

It’s as if the child and I are in different time zones:

Mine is: OMG the bus is around the corner and you are still in PJ’s?1

Hers is: OMG will the old man leave me alone already? I just have to finish this puzzle first. I have priorities. Also, the dog is real interesting now.

I was freaking out.

The bus is scheduled to be here at 8:26. Mr. Dave, our friendly bus driver has the route down pat and is always 10 minutes early. at least.

This morning’s timeline was:

8:00 - Breakfast is over, let’s get rocking
8:02 - I have her snack ready, shoes and bag and sweater at the door.
8:04 - The child is doing a puzzle. I am having kittens.
8:08 - I reminder her that the bus is coming so stop what you are doing and get dressed!
8:10 - she talks back. I KNOW!! she screams as she gives me the evil eye and stomps up the stairs.

I have to tell you guys, I did not see that coming. How could my little angel daughter super-child talk back to her Dad? I was crushed.

And then I looked at the calendar: Oh, right. She is 7.342 years old. It’s time.

And just like that I knew I was a parent

It’s my job to push. It’s hers to push back.

PS> Somehow we made the school bus. Don’t ask me how. I need therapy.

Some kids run in and get snack

The first thing she does is kick off her shoes and coat and leave them where they are and then she looks around to see if there’s anything new. New soap, something in the fridge, whatever.

Tonight, she had an idea. She’s getting ready in her mind that she’s leaving for Argentia with Mom in one week and she had to make her teacher a goodbye card. The trouble came when she went to close the envelope.

I told her she had to lick it.
”Lick it?” she asked.

Yup. I had to explain the whole glue and envelopes thing and for those of us that don’t send hundreds it’s a just a quick lick and it’s good to go.

She licked, complained about the taste and said that they should make the glue flavored. We explained that if you’re a professional envelope sender there’s machines for that now.

Speaking of Machines

Then she wanted to play a few games of Mad Libs, so we did that for a while and then I got up and started to do some laundry. My little shadow followed me downstairs and helped me load up the washer.

She also learned that detergent comes in sheets now. It’s interesting times we live in.

She then went upstairs, got a couple of blankets and pillows and her Tonie box and favorite stuffies and set up camp in the laundry room to watch the washing machine go around and around.

For a good half an hour - that’s what she did. She listened to her stories and sang songs and was happy as a clam in her little washing machine nirvana.

Although I wanted to - I didn’t get a photo because I didn’t want to interrupt the zen of the washing machine moment so I left it alone and have a memory to go with when I make all these posts into a book someday.

But this is not the first time she’s done this. The child and the washing machine go way back:

Further back than I thought. :)

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

Here’s the unicorn world that was made for me tonight.

Never in a million years did I think my day would be made by being given a bejewelled chunk of blue play-doh with plastic toys jammed into it - but here we are.

In other news, she’s ready for mother’s day.

The gift she’s going to give mommy on the big day is hiding in plain sight on the bookshelf in the living room - it’s wrapped so there will be a surprise. I have no idea what’s in it.

Then she sat on her little stool in the kitchen and yammered my ear off while petting the dog while I cleaned up after dinner. It was iffy at first, but those two are best buds now.

So ya. A pretty good day here.

It was all Sunshine and Unicorns today.

“Literally”, as she likes to say.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

“I want to have a mother’s day store”, she tells me.

“A what?”, I ask groggily?

“ A store, for mother’s day” she repeats.

Sigh.

I find glasses and a somewhat vertical state and go downstairs to find the little kid table that’s taken up residence in our kitchen has been turned into some kind of cookie store. There are two kinds to purchase: Oreos and Animal Crackers.

Both choices are not exactly a breakfast choice and I told her that.

She rolled her eyes at me and said “Obviously” and then pointed at the sign that read closed. On the big day I guess the plan is to put the open side up and mommy can have her mothers’ day extravaganza with oreos? I have no idea.

Cookies go away, and the usual breakfast and getting dressed happens…the usual - teeth brushed, shoes on, etc.

Then I remembered that I had to pack her a snack. She tells me that I don’t need to as she’s already packed it.

I ask what she packed.

“Oreos. just two”

Keep your eyes on your oreos,

TH and Co.

I tried the obvious - antihistamines - no change. moisturizer…eh..maybe. hard to tell.

So all weekend while the ladies were away, I was at home itching and scratching. The dog and I were having a contest at one point on who could scratch the longest. I won

It was rough.

This morning I went to the walk in clinic. The diagnosis: Psoriasis. I can’t even pronounce it, let alone explain what it is. Don’t google it. I warned you.

I think this is really a fancy word that the doctors make up when they have no effing idea what the hell is wrong with you so they tell you that they think it’s (insert whatever here) and send you home with a prescription.

Which is what happened to me today. Doctor took one second to look and basically said “ I think it’s psoriasis” and sent me home.

I have learned in the medical community this is called “Treat and Street”. Get them in and out the door as quickly as possible but be sure to charge them for every little thing.

My doctor visit today was brought to you by Private Equity - we enshittify everything.

That said, I’m in better shape than I was this morning so maybe I should give more credit than I have - but I swear I’ve had better service at the drive thru at Tim Horton’s than I had today at the clinic.

Hoping to be less itchy next time we meet.

TH and Co.

All trips end with:

1. Exhaustion

2. Laundry

3. Stories

4. Plastic Wings from the flight attendant.1

The Exhaustion was evident. BW showered and went to bed. The child - no shower (more on that in a minute) and melted in her bed with YouTube Kids. This is understandable because the day started at 5am.

But, there was a good time. Cousins were introduced to, ball pits were played in and a night in a hotel never gets old when you’re 7-years-old.

I also had a demonstration on how the traffic controllers wave their glow sticks to guide the planes. We didn’t have those so we used.

Bedtime? It landed an hour too late and we paid for it. “I don’t need bath”, was a real thing and real struggle tonight but in the end it happened. The school bus arrives here at 8:14 and she’s going to be on it.

Oh, the plastic wings. We have them. Apparently they don’t hand them out any more and you have to ask for them, but we asked and the wings are proudly pinned on her jacket and she’s asleep and out cold.

Flying sucks, but coming home is awesome. Even if there is laundry to deal with.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

1. My retirement plan with all the earnings from my little online empire has some room for improvement: this dashboard and more numbers are at jims.one

   

   
   

2. The dog thinks I am her personal doorman and I should pet her on command. We have different opinions on this. She better get used to it because this is the new normal. She’s just pissed because it’s May

3. Whoever said Saturday Nights were busy didn’t driver an Uber in Buffalo. Probably because I went home when the streetlights came on didn’t help. I have an excuse., I have to take care of the dog.

4. Pizza is even better the 2nd night. And no stains tonight - I’m getting better at this.

5. I had a nap. don’t tell BW. The dog is a bad influence.

That’s it. The ladies come home tomorrow and it’s back to the regular for a bit.

Until next time,

TH and Co.

No. “Hey Dad, Look! I’m a snail!

Nope.

It’s just the dog and I. I’m in my recliner in my man cave for the first time forever with the good headhones on. Yes, the good ones.

This is what happens when the child and wife are away for the weekend. I’ve got Emmylou Harris on and I feel like I’m catching my breath for the first time in forever

Also, I have a pizza stain on my shirt and I’m okay with that.

The ladies come back Sunday so it’s not like this is going to last long so I’m going to take advantage of my uninterrupted recliner time.

Goodnight Ladies,

TH and Co.

Because they are flying into and out of Atlanta and the fact that the child does not know our phone numbers by memory (who does these days?) - BW thought it would be a good idea to make a little index card and hang it around her neck - just in case she gets lost. It’s a big busy airport. It’s a good idea.

It's a simple card. It has MY NAME IS with BW’s phone number and note about her allergies. That’s it.

You already know how this is going to go.

BW suggested. Child Protested.

NO way, no how, not in a boat or with a goat or….you get the idea. There were tears. This is not worth tears.

My Guess? ID cards are for babies and she’s not one. She’s off to Atlanta for the weekend and staying at a Very Fancy Hampton Inn - she does not need an ID card. She is a big girl!

Then like we all do - she thought about it for a bit..and when she thought we were not watching - she tried it on. Huh. This doesn’t look too bad - but the string from the junk drawer we used is too itchy. The verdict is still no. NO WAY.

But what if we added some colorful fluffy yarn mommy has?

Well…why didn’t you say so? This changes everything! Now she’s all about the card and wears it around proudly.

“But what about Grandpop?”, she asked.
”What do you mean?” we asked.

If he’s going to the party and meeting them at the airport in Atlanta - then HE NEEDS AN ID CARD TOO.

Spoiler Alert: GrandPop now has an ID card too. It has his wife’s phone number on it if he gets lost. Also, don’t feed him mushrooms.

Hey, you never know. It’s Atlanta Airport. We all should have contact numbers for our loved ones in case we get lost.

We are now taking orders for custom cards - pick your card and yarn color. Seniors discount available on request with proof of age.

Atlanta or Bust,

TH and Co.

We don’t need more stuff. I keep pitching stuff when nobody’s looking. Heck, I got rid of all my late father’s diecast car collection because we have enough stuff of our own.

Sometimes you realize the stuff you have doesn’t work for you any more. You lost interest or the feeling passed or that big thing you thought you wanted just weighed you down.

Sometimes the stuff gets returned, sometimes it gets sold on eBay but a lot of time it gets given away on facebook. BW is a member of a facebook group called “buy nothing”. There’s been days where our lawn has been full with stuff we’ve given away. computer monitors, a four foot llama that we had no room for.

We’ve also been on the receiving end.. lots of kids stuff and stuffed turkey that has become a family heirloom at our house somehow and gets dragged out from the basement.

Tonight it was our turn to be on the receiving end - swimsuits, sweaters, a pair of shoes and of course: new PJ’s

And with new PJ’s you must twirl to showcase them:

To the kind stranger who left these in a paper bag on the porch to be reused, we thank you.

We’ll be back- but to return the favor. I know for a fact there’s a pair of barely used winter boots in the garage.

Keep Giving and Swirling,

TH and Co.

No…not the pink princess with the matching pink umbrella, purse and shoes. She’s cute but she’s not the story tonight.

The story is our lawn

If you look closely from left to right you see: lawn full of dandelions and weeds then bright green racing stripe down the middle without one weed and then more weeds and dandelions. If our front yard was a car it would be an old Camaro:

I think this is funny, this one stripe down the middle of the yard where there are NO weeds.

Not one.

Everywhere else? Weeds. Our weeds have weeds.

We had a weed man salesman knock on our door asking if we needed his services. I mean, really what would give him that idea?.

Oh, right - the weeds and dandelions.

Our neighbor next door gets the weed man services and he has no weeds and dandelions and a very pretty lawn

We have weeds all over our lawn and a very pretty princess with a fuzzy purse on a spring day.

We win.

To heck with the HOA.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.

If you’re 7-years-old

You dance in the sunshine.

Today was also a good time to wear a sundress to school and then eat popsicles on the front porch when you came home. Then when the the sundress became too hot you changed into the shorts and tank top you see above.

You didn’t like the carpenter bees hanging around even though we told you they were harmless.

You also put on some sunscreen and wore a pink fuzzy purse and walked up and down the street with a pink umbrella and sunglasses without a care in the world what the world thought.

And then you came inside, had dinner and a quick rinse in the tub to wash off the day. Before you went to bed you would have had a facial with mommy and then you would have melted down over nothing at all because it was a long day and you were tired.

You would have tried to fight it and stay awake but those eyes got heavier and heavier and you were fast asleep by 8pm.

If you are 60 Years Old

You would have woken up and got the child off to school.

You thought about mowing the lawn but boy, the water in the yard is still ankle deep so instead - in morning you cleaned out the garage and put away the snow shovel, at long last.

Then you might have had an afternoon nap because the yard can wait until another day.

Later you might have then given our BW’s car the good cleaning it needed to turn it from a rolling garbage can to something that resembles the SUV it was designed to be after a long winter of cookie crumbs and salt stains

Then you would try to navigate the dog, dishes, the roomba and laundry and meltdowns and other things that need to be done for the day.

You might also wonder why it hurts to move now that you’ve stopped.

Keep Dancing. Just don’t stop. Trust me, I know.

Until Next Time,

TH and Co.