Solo Dad

 

Solo Dad turns Firefighter

On occasion, my daughter-in-law is out of town on a girls’ trip, and my son takes sole responsibility for their three children.  He is not without help, however, as both grandmothers live in the area.  On Saturday morning, the third day of his soloing, he brought his children over to my house.  As he arrived, my other son dropped off his two-and-a-half-year-old for us to watch. Solo dad was carrying a large bag from Bojangles and proceeded to give all of the children their breakfast.  I could tell he was a little sleep deprived and tired.  His attention turned to his phone as he began a facetime call with his sister-in-law.  I was hand-sewing a repair to a shirt for my grandson who asked me so nicely to do so.  With threaded needle in hand, I told my son that I could not watch the children and sew.  What transpired after that was nothing short of an “I Love Lucy” episode.  With my back to them, and his back to them the two toddler girls proceed to open a huge jar of diamond art gems and by handfuls, spill them onto the floor.  I turned around and saw the scene to which I yelled “Ted”.  He immediately jumped up and grabbed the jar, placing it on the tabletop.  I said don’t put it there as she can still reach it, but before the words got out of my mouth, the 18-month-old reached for the jar.  At breakneck speed I lunged and retrieved it just in the nick of time.  At once, my son is down on his knees with a handy brush and dustpan trying in earnest to get the endless sea of salt-sized colorful particles swept off the hardwood floor.  In the meantime, the 2.5-year-old decides to help by bringing in the dustmop and spreading them around.

 At this point, I still haven’t put down my needle.  I am watching and finding humor in it all.  While dad is on hands and knees, the baby then goes over to my dining room buffet and tries to pull out some breakable items.  Ted rushes over to remove her from that area, leaving his cleaning undone.  Now, mind you, I thought my house was baby proofed well.  That jar had been there for months and none of them had seen it or bothered it.  At this point, I see the 2.5-year-old running for the front door and I asked the 6-year-old to hurry and lock it, because she can get out.  It was a race to the front door and again I’m yelling “Ted”.  She didn’t get out, but it was close.  In the meantime, the 18-month-old had gotten the base of the Keurig machine and was walking around with it.  Ted proceeded to grab it out of her hands in total desperation.  He was exasperated.  All of this had transpired in a matter of a minute.  The Facetime call had been discontinued, and I was laughing my head off.  I hadn’t had a good belly laugh like that in a while. My son, however, did not find it to be so funny.  At this point, he removed everything the baby touched from the living room and tried to encourage her to play with toys, books, watch television, anything!  A series of calamities happened, and solo dad quickly became a firefighter, putting out fires! 

Tammy Harvey   2/22/2026