The other day I wrote a Slice of Life story about how dads do it their way. I’ve come to accept this fact and have really tried to embrace my husband’s unique style of parenting. The girls adore him, after all, and there haven’t been any major catastrophes. (Well, there was that one time the three of them came back from Home Depot and Maddie told me how funny it was when they couldn’t find Katie but then they found her way up high on the ladder.)
All was well, though, the other day when I wrote that post and left Daddy was in charge.
So I was surprised yesterday when I emptied Maddie’s backpack. I glanced through her returned homework, including her daily math practice from the other evening which had a big star on it from the teacher. I was about to flip to the next page when something caught my eye. Does that say beer? My eyes scanned the page.
“Maddie. Did you turn your homework in like this?”
“Mmmm, hmmm,” she answered, her mouth full of cookie.
I closed my eyes and shook my head while a sigh escaped my mouth.
Like I said, Dads do it their way.