This morning he told me not to worry because when sis was little he watched her one day a week. Well, first off, I am not worried because worrying messes up my chill. Second, I don't think he realizes the difference between me and Cros; she may need to be "intellectually stimulated" or whatever, whereas I am just trying to live my life. The only way this day could go sideways is if we skip some meals or forget snack time. If we grub, we're good pops.
He also keeps asking me what I want to do. Its simple dude: bonk a bottle, bonk some solids, and bonk out for nap. I may hit some cardio and crawl around or do some body-weight lifts, but I am not trying to get after it that hard AT ALL today. TGIF, pops, do you know what that means? I say we queue up some Linkin Park to rage a little but also hit the feels so hard.
The only beef I can see arising is if dad makes the fake chicken nuggets and eats them all while I am napping. Share the love pops and let me get in on that honey mustard action too. If we need to make two boxes, so be it, it is dude's day after all. And if Mom wonders why we ate so many nuggs, we will just blame it on the dog or something.
|Guy Thomas Proctor is a dude's dude. This is his first blog on proctorstype.com.|