From 72 degrees outside to 42 degrees, this Sunday was a cold one compared to Saturday. I woke up to Jess telling me our daughter was up. As usual. So excited to meet a new day. We often wake up to an excited, “Dad. Dad. Come here, Dad!”
We enter her room to her two Mr. Goats thrown overboard and E.K.H. requesting a “new diapy”. Today was no exception.
On the weekends, we cook the traditional American breakfast. Biscuits or toast, bacon, sausage and eggs. It’s at least traditional in my eyes. Emmy likes to trick hers up with some additional maple syrup and mixed berry jelly. Which is pretty much all she likes besides the “egg juice”. Yes, she eats her egg with a spoon.
I snatched her up for a quick run to PetSmart to grab some Millie cat food and look at the animals. Not too many dogs at 9 AM and the kittens were all asleep. We traversed next door to Tom Thumb to snag some Drano. On our way out, the watermelon display caught her attention. As I carried Emerson on my right hip, her head looking behind me, the automatic sliding door opened in that magical way as I hear her say, “Watermelon. Delicious in my tummy.” How could she be cuter?
We ran up to Kohl’s to return some dad jeans. Then home.
A quick Scott’s Turf Builders run across the yard to help with the dollar weed and clover, so the advertisements say. A sprinkle over the water and with daylight savings spring forward, it was time to go.
11:00 AM rolled up and it was time for our Sunday tradition lunch. Mi Cocina. She even asked for it today. Making up for her sleeping through it yesterday, I guess. Cheese sauce, flour tortillas, mambo taxis and every server coming up to talk to us because they all know us. It’s greatness.
On our way out, though, we needed to do some Dallas Arboretum-ing. Emmy Kate dictates our weekends, clearly.
So we went. And it was awesome. Cold and dreary. Still busy but not crowded. Serene and beautiful. I’ve come to love this little garden of Eden in east Dallas. Jess has always loved it, I guess I’m just complying.
By 2:30 PM we were done and WELL past nap time. So we got home for a Fox in Socks reading and a few other books before telling our little bear it was just simply time to lay down. It’s like she’s Mike Tyson versus Naps. Hates them and wants to punch their face off. It’s a little victory when we get her down every weekend.
From there it was that parents-only-know rush of getting everything done that we can get done in an hour or two. And we did. Cookies, dishes, grocery run, blogging, work, cleaning and anything else you could imagine.
And done.