Bachelor of the Month Again

At long length, I finished my thesis, but not without the support of my loving bride. As a matter of fact, Delores did the most supportive thing she could do while I was racing frantically to complete it: she left me. Just for a week, mind you. That week made all the difference in the world.

One morning, I wake at the crack of dawn and, as all student bachelors do, get to work without dressing. Strangely, when I am alone I close all the doors behind me, as though there exist unseen eyes lurking around the corner.

I think to myself, as I close the basement door behind me, "Self? Doesn't the doorknob feel funny?" Click!

Yup. Locked in the basement.

Upstairs, far out of reach, are yesterday's trousers with my keys. The phone in the kitchen could have been a thousand miles away for all the help it was to me trapped below. All the external doors to my house are locked. There I stand, barely wearing a thing, wondering how I am going to get help.

I notice the door hinges are on my side of the door, so I slip into the garage to get tools to remove the hinge pins and open the door backwards. No dice. The door fits too snugly to squeeze over the bulges in the hinges without doing damage to the door.

Then I remember that this door has a ventilation grate. Off to the garage for a screwdriver, and a few moments removing the grate, and... there was another grate on the other side of the door.

Next up, I try wires and screwdrivers to walk the latch back into the door. The door clicked again as the extra pin latched. I was then twice as locked in my basement as I was a moment before!

You might ask, "So, how did you get out?"

Truth is, I'm not all that sure myself.

The Pink Bobbett

Abigail is a loquacious little charmer. Among her repertoire of complete sentences are: "Hi, Lil'lin!", "I found the cat!", "I want to go Gramma's house again", and "No eat the feet! They feet, not food!" It's really a thrill to see her communicate, and grow.

We can't quite get her to say "pink blanket", though. Oh, she can say "blanket" with such clarity you might think she were much older than two, but "pink blanket" infallibly deteriorates to "Pink Bobbett". You see, Pink Bobbett is the name of her most-favorite-above-all-things-in-this-world blanket.

And more importantly, Pink Bobbett is a member of the family.

I should explain...

One evening, we sang Here We Are, Together with our family, where Abigail's job is to point at each member of the family so we can sing their names. It went something like this:

...Here we are together with our family. There's Mommy and Lillian and Abigail and Pink Bobbett, too...

... Oh, and Daddy. Here we are together with our family.

One other day, Delores tells Abigail she is a princess, and then asks, "Is Lillian a princess?"

"A huh, and Pink Bobbett a princess too!" came the reply.

On yet another day...

"Abigail's cold. Lil'lin's cold. Pink Bobbett's cold!"

What could be more fun than being the father of two delightful girls...

And one scrap of cuddly personified fabric.

Bachelor of the Month

Delores spent the week in Provo to enjoy her family, a little extra help with the kids, and to give me some uninterrupted time to work on my thesis. That leaves me reminiscing on how remarkably dull life was as a bachelor.

To spice things up, I decided to prepare a small, gourmet meal, which consisted of two turkey franks in a pot of boiling water. With an early pre-winter chill starting to settle in the valley, I warmed my hands a moment over the stove, and then settled myself in a basement couch to work on my thesis.

Forty-five minutes later (yup, a whole forty-five minutes) I smell a musty smoke smell in the air and thought, I'll bet that's the last barbecue of the summer... wait.... Is my house on fire?

I sprinted upstairs to find my turkey franks, black and brittle and billowing smoke all through the house.

I think that warrants an embarrased Idiot Bachelor of the Month award, eh?

Learning from the Best

One of the reasons I love Abigail is because she is an excellent teacher. Here are a few of the many things she teaches me:

She teaches me gratitude. We were eating dinner, Abigail poised on my lap. Our plates were identical, except for portion sizes and degree of florescence in the platter. Although her plate was not empty, mine held the greater appeal, so she cautiously retrieved noodles and broccoli from my plate, one piece at a time, and placed them on her plate followed by a jovial "Thank Yooo".

She teaches me etiquette. After nearly clearing my plate, she pointed at the center of one of the few remaining morsels and gently informed me "There,". I placed my fork where instructed, ate the noodle, and she pointed to another. "There." And it was so that, under her tutelage, I finished my meal.

She teaches me compassion. I had a bad cold, with coughs that sounded six times worse than they felt, and they felt pretty bad. After each, Abigail's eyes would fill with worry, and she would plead to know that I was "Okay. Okaayee. Okaayee.". There was no consolation until we reassured her I was fine.

She teaches me love of the gospel. On the way to church, Abigail was so excited, so unabashedly thrilled at going to church, that she sprinted down the sidewalk shouting "Runrunrunrunrun! Runrunrunrunrunnnn!". Not even bruising her forehead in a fall on the way diminished her enthusiasm. She was going to church and that was the highlight of her day.

I love the daddy job.

Where are you?

There was an accident in a campsite near where we were camping with Delores' family. A helicopter arriving on site to fly the girl out of the canyon caught the interest of all the nieces and nephews.

In particular, little Abigail chased the helicopter down the lane as it lifted off, shouting Bu'bye! Bu'byeee!

Then, as the helicopter disappeared over the other side of the mountain, Abigail began to call out, Cop'er! Co'per! Wh'are you. Co'per, wh'are you!

It made me smile.

She had them convinced

Not long after the elating daddy experience last Sunday, Abigail turned the tables when Delores told her "Daddy will give you a bath".

Abigail crouched in her mother's arms, flailing her arms and trying to climb away from her watery fate, shouting:

"I l'you! I l'you! Gu-bye! Gu-bye!

I suppose I was dismissed. And the folks at church think she adores me. :)

Distracting with Delight

My little angel has an amazing super power. She can thoroughly distract no fewer than five pews, forward and back. Not with tears, mind you. She distracts us all with pure, wide-eyed 2-year-old love of life.

A few weeks ago, the local high school's Madrigal choir sang in our church service. Normally, in our services, there is no applause after a musical number, so that members can meditate and internalize the message of the song. Not so with Abigail, who was on her tip-toes, hands on the pew ahead, drinking in the melody. When the last chord ended, she stood up, clapped her hands vigorously, and shouted "Yaaayyyy!!!" in the otherwise reverent chapel.

Today, during our sacrament meeting, Abigail added her "Aaaaymen. Amen. Aymeeeennn!" to the opening prayer, parroted the words of the priests blessing the sacrament, and added several more emphatic amens to each subsequent prayer.

Then our ward choir sang, which I joined in response to the bullying of a sweet, grandmotherly sister in our ward. We sang "Abide with Me", one of my favorites, which concluded with Abigail adding her fervent "Daddy! Dadeeeee! Preddy. Preddy. Daaadeeeee!"

I'll tell you, its moments like these that make the daddy job the best job in the world.