Disaster

Yesterday morning was the official end of my paternity leave. And when I left Diana, she had that glassy eyed look of a mommy who just pulled an all nighter with a three week old. Add to that a two year old who was still deciding whether he wanted to be Elijah or Hajile, and we had the potential for a disastrous first day back.

Luckily, December is slow for sports cars, so I scrambled out of the office and swooped home to the rescue.

On the El, I had images of our house half collapsed, half on fire. I imagined Diana hiding in the basement, shivering, while Luca rode Grover through the house like Sea Biscuit. I saw Eli, dressed in leafs and holding a conk shell, standing atop our TV demanding his 12th consecutive hour of Curious George cartoons.

I burst through the front door and shouted, “Attention! Daddy’s here! Everything is going to be ok!”

I ran into the kitchen and found the following scene:

Luca was fast asleep in his bouncy chair. Elijah was happily finished with his hunger strike and shoving fistfuls of pears into his mouth. Diana was bright-eyed, fully clothed and chatting on the phone. She was also juggling knives with her feet and playing the banjo one-handed. Okay, that last part is an exaggeration, but they were all doing fantastic.

Eli shouted, “Hey Mommy! I love you.”

Okay, I’ll admit it. I felt a little disappointed.

I asked Di if I could do anything.

“I don’t think so. We’re cool. Oh, Grover could use a walk.”

I led Grover out the back door. “At least you’d be a disaster without me,” I said. He urinated in reply.

p.s. Today’s photo is the only Luca shot I have on my phone. Which was shot at an angle that makes him look like an alien. When I show co-workers my beautiful son, they say, “Oh…he’s…cute-ish.”

I need a new shot.