Not my child!

 

Today's story took place sometime around 2007.

I would consider it a joint post of "Not my Husband" and "Not my child."

I still don't know if I am doing this "Not Me" creative writing posting correctly.

Let me know what you think!

Visit www.mycharmingkids.net for more of "Not Me Monday."

*****

Once upon a time, the Lumberjack took our only 3 children with him to Sportsman's Warehouse.

Where was I?

Who knows.

I do not have a life outside of my family.

He loads Handsome Dude, who was then just a little tyke, into the shopping cart.

Interruption:  Is not Handsome Dude the most handsome little dude you ever saw?

Now some Dads might try to get their kids to behave in a store by bribing them with candy.

Not my husband.

No.

He would never do that.

As he is perusing the exciting world of outdoor adventurism, he does not spot the knife counter.

My husband does not then strike up a riveting conversation with the gentleman who mans the knife counter.

Interesting Fact:  the knife expert did not become a family friend and he did not even live with the Lumberjack's brother for a time.

All Lumberjacks and their kin do not love knives and all things hazardous.

Some dads might get distracted in the midst of such glorious knives and forget to keep an eye on their children.

Not my husband.

After awhile, my husband did not hear this over the loudspeaker,

"Would the father of "Sweet Pea" please come to the customer service desk?"

No.

That was not my husband.

No.

That was not my Sweet Pea.

My Sweet Pea would never wander off.

Not my child.

And my husband would never get too distracted to not even notice she had wandered off in the first place.

Nope.

Not him.

Eventually, the Lumberjack meandered over to the customer service desk where he was surprised to find out that, yes, the "Sweet Pea" in question was, in fact, our Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea was covered in snot, smiling, and holding a balloon.

This did not make my Daisy Mae jealous.

Nope.

Not my child.

"Why did Sweet Pea get a balloon and I didn't?"

"Because she got lost.  Maybe you should get lost.  Then you would get a balloon, too."

My husband did not say anything like that.

The Lumberjack still had plenty of shopping to do.

I mean, it is a sportsman's paradise.

But my husband did not get distracted by the gun aisle.

Nope.

Not him.

Also, my husband has never invited me to the gun show.

No.

Not my husband.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can remember how that picture got on our Christmas tree.

Now, my Daisy Mae would never get jealous of her sister.

And she would certainly not get jealous of her sister's balloon.

No.

Not my child.

And my Daisy Mae, who was probably 3 at the time, most certainly did not believe her father when he told her the only way to get a balloon would be if she did, in fact, get lost.

No.

My children are born knowing how to sense sarcasm.

A few moments passed.

Finally, the Lumberjack noticed that Daisy Mae was lost.

My husband did not not get worried, because he does not, in fact, really love his children and does not ever worry about his children.

Interruption:  Whoa!  Hold on to your pants folks!  The above line made my head spin.  The truth is that he does love his children.  And he does worry once in a blue moon.

Am I doing this right?

Should I retire from Not Me! Mondays?

"Sweet Pea!  Where is Daisy Mae?"

"I don't know."

Raise your hand if your child responds "I don't know" to every single question.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-nnoying.

No.

My daughter did not get lost just so she could also have a balloon.

Never.

The End.

P.S.-I am not sure I did that right.

Raise your hand if you are confused.

I am.

Oh, well.

"E" for effort.