Monday, May 31, 2010


Jeff and Ali are locked in combat trying to decide the Championship of the MarioKart World. He's devised some sort of handicap for himself and she's giving him pointers, so I suspect the balance of power remains on her side of the Wii.

It's fun listening to them. Unless he's instructing her in his Captain Reed persona, he's really sweet with her.

I know it's Memorial Day weekend, not Father's Day, but for all the grief I give him, I can't help being really grateful for his "dad-ness."

His one failing (in his mind) is in not yet getting her to be as fascinated with the Red Sox -- or any sports game in progress -- as he is. I say yet because I'm sure he'll get her eventually. He's persistent, but she loves him that much and one of these days she'll watch a game with him out of mercy and get caught up in it.

He's a little annoyed with me because she and I sometimes share deep thoughts while we're in the bathroom. Generally, it's her using the facilities, and I get beckoned, but sometimes it's the other way around. Whoever is the visitor gets to perch on the tub and we'll talk through school trouble, movie or book reviews or just her question of the day.

This weekend, I was delivering clean towels and happened upon her. She asked if I'd stay, so of course I did, and she asked me, very seriously, if I was planning to have any more babies.

"Nope, not gonna happen," I said, bracing myself for her to either press for company or end with a plea for a cat if she can't have a baby sister or brother.

"Good!" she said, clearly relieved.

I was a little surprised at her vehemence, and learned that it was quite the subject at school among her classmates who had younger siblings. They apparently are all crybabies who demand too much attention and practically steal all the attention that should otherwise go to the classmates. Alison wants none of that.

"I like it with just you and me and Daddy," she said.

"Me, too," I said.

When I relayed the conversation to Jeff, he asked when this could have happened. He'd been around all weekend.

I told him it was in the bathroom. He reminded me that he doesn't like the closed-door girl talk, and he particularly thinks its weird that we have these talks with a toilet in the room. I'm sending him over to Amy Tokash so she can explain why it's a sacred sharing. Sure, there's a little urine involved, but you don't focus on that -- and it goes away pretty fast. It's the intimacy of the occasion.

He has the Wii and the DS and any video game that comes along. He can still toss her in the air in the pool. He is the tall, strong one who can fix anything. And if she ever does start to like team sports, I will be relegated to the snack wagon and laundry room post haste.

I'm keeping the bathroom chats.

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