Luca In The Morning

As you can tell by my complete abandonment of the blog, I’ve been b-u-s-y at work.  Real, real busy.  The kind of busy where I wake up at precisely three am every night to get advice from Grover.  His business knowledge can be summed up by breathing terrible dog breath into my face.  Which, when you think about it, is pretty good.

Friday night tossing turned into Saturday morning whisper shouting by the side of our bed.  It was time for Elijah and Luca to quickly drum up a reason why they should be up at 6.

“I have a bad, bad tummy ache,” Eli whined/whispered.

Diana informed him if he had a bad bad tummy ache he wouldn’t be able to go to his cousin’s house later that day.

“I’m real real scared of the dark,” he whined/whispered.

Diana took great pity on me and went downstairs with them.  I rolled around half sleeping for an hour with no luck. 

Diana came in and asked if I’d switch places with her so she could get sleep in preparation for me not being around all weekend due to work.

I gladly went downstairs.  My plan was to sleep on our couch until it was time for me to head to the office.

I found Luca sitting on our leather couch, watching cartoons.  I slipped in beside him and he said, “Hi dada.”

“Hi,” I breathed into the pillow.”

“Dada?”

“Uh huh?”

“I think I pee peed in my pants.”

I looked over, with bleary eyes and noticed that Luca was sitting in a massive puddle.  Ducks were migrating to the lake he created. 

I laid back down, thinking, “He doesn’t seem to mind.  It’s gotta be in the warm stage for a little while longer.”

But then I thought, the only thing worse than abandoning your children for the second weekend in a row was abandoning your children and knowingly allowing one to sit in his own filth.

So I sleepily rolled into action.  Got the boy dried.  Mopped up our couch and then put him into pants.

We then went to Dunkin Donuts where we parked next to a security car whose side was completely crushed in.  Luca took one look at the sad, yellow light on the top and shrieked, “Dada!  A police car!  Is there a policeman inside Dunkin Donuts?”

“Maybe a former policeman. But by the looks of this car I imagine this guy was thrown off the force for drinking on the job.”

Luca looked at me with confusion and sadness.

“I mean, yes.  There is a police man in Dunkin Donuts.”

We went inside and Luca stared with awe at the obese man armed with a flashlight standing in line.

I nodded my sleepy nod at him and ordered a pink donut with sprinkles. The police man's special.