Dear old Dad has been away from home for an entire week, and my kids are really missing him. Or so they say. Like when it is time to go to bed, or I need them to get moving just a little more quickly, or when I ask them to take out the trash. "I really miss Daddy," they'll say, with just a small twinge of pitiful thrown in for good measure. Thankfully, he's only going to be gone a few weeks, he's safely on land, and we get to talk on the phone regularly. At least, I thought we were talking.
This evening, we had the opportunity to catch up right before bedtime.
We've had a busy weekend with two swim meets and some dreadfully hot
weather, and my mother slept over at our house last night. There was
much to say, and three of the four kids were clamoring to talk to Dad. I handed the phone over to one child, who passed it to another, then I transported it to a third. After I retrieved the receiver, my husband mentioned that he didn't want to sound ungrateful, but there really was no reason for them to be on the phone if the child didn't plan on saying anything. Apparently, at least one conversation was a little one-sided. I guess I should have noticed that the child was reading a book while she talked to dad. Maybe next time the kids are missing their dad, I'll just hand them the empty phone line and say, "Talk to Dad."
