{"id":571,"date":"2009-03-06T13:40:17","date_gmt":"2009-03-06T13:40:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/2009\/03\/06\/flying-solo\/"},"modified":"2009-03-06T13:40:17","modified_gmt":"2009-03-06T13:40:17","slug":"flying-solo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/2009\/03\/06\/flying-solo\/","title":{"rendered":"Flying Solo"},"content":{"rendered":"

[This tale is running in today’s Chronicle – but it’s not in their online version.]
DaddyTales: Flying Solo
By Patrick Matthews<\/strong><\/p>\n

I generally enjoy flying solo with the kids. I view it as a chance to get some special one-on-one time with the kids. So when my wife said she\u2019d be gone for five days, I wasn\u2019t too worried.<\/p>\n

The first evening went well. The boys and I had a picnic in the den. I helped my six-year old get his homework done, and read a story with my four year old. I even managed to get their lunches packed. I went to sleep feeling reassured about my parenting.<\/p>\n

The next morning, however, my six-year old woke me up with open rebellion.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to go to school today,\u201d he announced as he banged his way through my bedroom door.<\/p>\n

I sat up, bleary-eyed. \u201cWell you\u2019re going to school anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo I\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n

I rolled out of bed and loomed over him. \u201cYou really want to start the day with a fight?\u201d<\/p>\n

He harrumphed and left. I followed.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning,\u201d my youngest greeted us. \u201cCan we play with the trains?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d I said. \u201cI need to check the weather, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

I let the dogs out, turned on the computer, and discovered we had a cold day ahead of us. \u201cIt\u2019s gonna be cold,\u201d I called out. \u201cThat means long pants and shirts. Time to get dressed.\u201d<\/p>\n

I herded them into their bedroom and tossed some clothes their way. \u201cThese\u2019ll work.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m hungry,\u201d my six year old said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBreakfast after you get dressed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t want to get dressed.\u201d<\/p>\n

His little brother stopped putting his pants on to watch.<\/p>\n

I yawned. \u201cNo clothes, no breakfast,\u201d I said and left. I grabbed a shower, fed the dogs, and inspected the breakfast options. By then the kids were dressed and playing in the den.<\/p>\n

\u201cCereal or waffles?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

My youngest threw his hands over his head in celebration: \u201cWaffles!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBoth,\u201d his older brother yelled.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not hard to make waffles. Putting an extra waffle in the toaster oven is, perhaps, the simplest of all possible breakfasts. There was a note in his voice, however, that stopped me. He was still testing my authority. \u201cNope,\u201d I said. \u201cPick one.\u201d<\/p>\n

He showed me his angry face: lowered eyebrows, flat mouth. \u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cI want both. You make me both.\u201d<\/p>\n

I really didn\u2019t want to start the day with a fight. \u201cSo, waffles then?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Make me both!\u201d<\/p>\n

Enough was enough. I put the waffles down and let a little anger creep into my voice. \u201cYou\u2019re about to miss breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes widened. \u201cNo,\u201d he shouted. \u201cI can get my own cereal. I can! You make me waffles and I\u2019ll get my cereal.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seemed like a reasonable deal, so I agreed. The rest of the morning went smoothly and I figured the rebellion was over.<\/p>\n

After school, however, he decided to push things again, this time by bullying his little brother. \u201cNo,\u201d he shouted. \u201cThe scooter doesn’t go there!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes it does,\u201d I said from the kitchen. \u201cI just told him to put it there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Someone could step on it!\u201d<\/p>\n

I walked over. The scooter was wedged between the wall and a small table. I looked at it and then looked at my son.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, really,\u201d he shouted, gesturing wildly with his hands. \u201cReally! What if someone was looking at this table, and couldn’t see something, and walked around to try to see it and leaned over and wasn’t looking, and stepped on the scooter!\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled at him. \u201cSounds dangerous.\u201d<\/p>\n

He started to laugh, but choked it down. \u201cBut that\u2019s not where we keep it,\u201d he said. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t go there!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt does now.\u201d I chuckled. \u201cNow what would you like for dinner? Cereal or waffles?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDaddy!\u201d he shouted.<\/p>\n

Flying solo with the kids? Yeah, it\u2019s overrated.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[This tale is running in today’s Chronicle – but it’s not in their online version.] DaddyTales: Flying SoloBy Patrick Matthews I generally enjoy flying solo with the kids. I view it as a chance to get some special one-on-one time with the kids. So when my wife said she\u2019d be gone for five days, I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[118],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-571","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-daddytales-c"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DpYi-9d","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/571","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=571"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/571\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=571"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=571"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=571"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}