Last week, Middlest was doing some homework that required some family history. More specifically, her own history. When she walked, talked, sat up...that sort of thing. So I dug out her baby book which is supposed to have all her 'firsts' from the first year of her life. Well, let me tell you, it didn't. It had some stuff, but it was pretty sketchy. So what did I do? I turned to Facebook, naturally. I found some pictures and some updates that filled in some blanks, but we guessed at some stuff. Then she said, 'Biggest has a baby book and Littest has the blog. I don't have anything!' Ouch. Right in the feels. But I guess it fits the typical middle child syndrome.
The girls like to give Julie 'pedicures.' I use the term lightly because I'm not sure how good they really are. But they try and she humours them. Julie has quite a few tools of the trade. Various files and cuticle pushers and pumice stone and a couple little grinding stones that require batteries. So they file, push and grind away, aply various oils and ointments and she appreciates her 'treatment.' Again, I have the air quotes around that term. One night before I tucked Middlest in, Julie suggested that she give me a pedicure. She wasn't too taken with the idea. I asked her about it and she said, 'Are you kidding me? Have you seen your feet? They're gnarly. I would have to burn the instruments when I was done.' Ouch. Right in the feels again. I know I rock a mean pair of dad sandals, but I didn't think I was that bad. Yikes.
But really, I am a lucky guy. I have a beautiful wife and three beautiful daughters. And a good friend who made them these shirts.
I may be a pretty cool dad, but it's easy with kids like this. Later.
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