Day 47

I arrive home at 6am. Stormy is still in bed. And by bed, I mean sleeping on the floor. I sneak in, give her a little kiss and place the present I got her from India beside her for when she wakes. It doesn’t take long. I’m having my post-flight shower when she flings open the bathroom door in excitement. She’s happy to have her daddy back. I’d like a shower in peace. Only one of us gets want we want.

She excitedly plays with her new toy which pointedly ignoring breakfast. She eventually eats, but it’s a rush to get the the bus in time. She departs and, as much as I’d like to go straight to sleep, I head into the office for the day.

I leave work a little early to spend quality time with Stormy. Quality is a subjective term. She’d prefer to sit on the sofa and play computer games. The joy of daddy being home has been replaced by a total indifference in an unbelievable short time. When people talk about children being adaptable they leave out the downsides of it.

Dinner time arrives and Stormy eats the smallest amount of food possible. I point out the rules we agreed to about eating dinner. She explains that she’s eaten enough for her and that she’s not hungry. I facitiously point out that if she’s not hungry for dinner, she can’t be hungry for desert. Once again I’ve turned into my mother. Her response is grounded in perfect logic. “If I eat any more I won’t have any space for desert.” I laugh. That is a mistake. She doesn’t like that I laugh stating “It’s not funny”. It is.

It’s the usual after dinner routine. She’s taken the rules to heart. She tells me that she’ll stay in her bedroom. I’m so proud.

This is when she gets creative and decides to annex the hallway. Loudly proclaiming that it is now part of her bedroom. I’m so impressed I can’t actually argue back.

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