Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Emmylou has a fantastic daddy. Not only do they enjoy playing at the house everyday (which is pretty convenient since Gary mostly works from home), he loves taking her out, just the two of them, to lots of fun places. Last Saturday, while I was hiking, yoga-ing, getting massaged and just flat-out relaxing at The Crossings (love that place!), Gary took Emmylou out to breakfast and later on to lunch followed by a stop at Terra Toys, a great toy store near our house.
And while I'm sure they look adorable out-and-about frolicking around these fun-tabulous places, the reactions he gets from people are unbelievable. He says they stop him constantly and tell him how cute he and Emmylou are, what a terrific dad he is, how much they enjoy seeing him and Emmylou playing, eating, walking, (breathing?) and so on and so on. And it happens time and time again! On the cruise, we had a deal where Gary could go to the casino every night (and I'd stay in with Emmylou to go to sleep) if he took care of her on the three days we were at sea (so I could lay by the pool without chasing a toddler). He told me that one day, after numerous people had stopped to lavish that never-seeming-to-end praise, that a couple actually offered to buy him a drink because he is "such a good dad!"
Now, I'm really happy that he and Emmylou get along so well and that I'm apparently married to the Father of the Year, but let me just contrast this to what I get when we're out and about...
On Friday night, I took Lulu to Phil's for a burger and to play on their playground. Just as I set her free to play and started looking around for whoever might find us so adorable they wouldn't be able to resist buying me a drink, a rather surly looking woman came up to me and said, "Uh, ma'am, those shoes she's wearing [points at Emmylou], uh, are those those Croc shoes?" And here it comes... the umpteenth time I've been told that unless I take those Crocs off her feet immediately, she'll have nothing but shredded stumps at the ends of her legs the next time we ride an escalator at the mall.
I smiled and said, "Yeah, I did hear about that [head tilt], but she's so small I always hold her on escalators. Thanks [another head tilt]."