After the numerous adventures that Action has put the Missus and myself through, I have to say that I’m feeling pretty good. I got a new job, I don’t have to work weekends anymore, and I feel like I’m finally getting the hang of this parenthood thing. Heck even Action has been tame by her own standards. It was this false sense of security that set up today’s adventure.
It’s a scenic fall day were we were. We were getting ready to head up to Pennsylvania to attend my friend’s wedding. The Missus dressed Action in a pretty green dress; the same dress she wore at the last wedding (see a Family Affair.) That should’ve been a warning right there, but hey, I’m all “Dad of the year” now, so I figure I could handle whatever Action had for me. *Snort*
As we’re getting ready to leave, I get a flashback to our road trip to NYC, in which Action decorated herself and the back seat with what she had for breakfast earlier. I ask the Missus if she could pack an extra change of clothes just in case. We pack Action’s emergency gear, load up the car and head out to PA.
As road trips go, I was amazed at how relatively calm Action was acting. We made a pit stop for food at the I-70/I-276 intersection to get some potato wedges for Action and got back on our way. I start believing we might actually get there on time and incident free. My friend, Pops, is a Marine, and Marines do not believe in tardiness; as the saying goes, “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.” We’re driving through the winding mountains of PA. The GPS says we’re 20 minutes away. The Ceremony started in 30 minutes. Tight, but we’ll make it I thought to myself. Heh, silly man. As I’ve said before about the Action Express; that train is never late.
I’m cruising along, focusing on making good time when I hear this from the back seat:
I’m just staring straight ahead like
Nonononoooooooo! I pull over to the side of the road, staring blankly out the window. The Missus got out to check on how bad the damage was. My eyes followed her from the rearview mirror as she got out and went back to asses the situation. I start hoping against hope that things wasn’t as bad as they sounded. The next thing I hear is the Missus going “Aaaauuurrrrgh!” I look in the rearview mirror to see her face; I can’t recreate her exact expression, but it kinda looked something like this:
Man, Action and her car seat looked like a scene out of the Exorcist; vomit everywhere. I guess she had one too many potato wedge. *Siiigh* so much for being on time. I jump out to help this Missus change Action’s ruined dress when it hit me; while I may get points for remembering to pack a change of clothes for just such an emergency, I forgot to pack clothes for the occasion.
We arrive just as the bride starts walking down the aisle. All the other children are all dressed up in their little jackets and dresses; Action rolls in, looking like she’s dressed to hit the Ski resort instead of a wedding. Screw it, we made it to the wedding and Action wasn’t naked; I’d call that a win. Fast forward through all the typical stuff Action does at weddings (again, refer to Family Affair) to the dinner portion of the night, where the fun begins.
My friend, Pops, seats the old Pentagon Channel crew together at on table, plus another couple, some of his new co-workers I think. I strike up a conversation with the couple when Action starts doing her thing. They smile and say they remember those days with their kids. Then they not so subtly move to another, toddler free table. “COWARDS! QUITTERS!” I yelled in my mind at the exiting couple. Ah well, more bread for us. The Missus and I try to clear Action’s path as mush as possible, as she is reaching for every breakable thing in sight. Our server is having a blast with Action at the table. Action? Not so much. Every time the server tries to clear the table, Action starts yelling and growling at the server. I look at Action like, “Savage. I wonder who your parents are kid.”
As the night wears on, I find myself getting sleepy. We had to drive back that night because of work. I had to start preparing myself, as I was the only driver. I decide to close my eyes for a spell. After a quick power nap, I open my eyes after a while to finish eating my food. I notice my fork is missing. Huh, the server must’ve taken it, I thought. I’ll just take one of the extra forks on the table. I eat some more and close my eyes again. When I open my eyes, I figure I’ll have some wedding cake before hitting the road. I look for my silverware only to find it all missing. What the? I only closed my eyes for a minute.
I’m wondering what happened to my silverware when I hear the clanking of mischief coming from Action’s direction. “Dangit kid, gimme back my silverware!” Action tries to pull away and I grab her arm. Holy… this kid has the forks and knives that she swiped i her shirt sleeves, with all the pointy sharp edges sticking out of her sleeves like an Assassin’s Blade. Action truly looked like she was out on a hit and was going to shank the sh*t out of someone if they got too close.
Who’s on your hit list? (and it better not be me.) The owner of the establishment came to our table and asked how we were doing. Embarrassed, I apologized profusely as I de-armed the pint-sized baby assassin, who’s now growling at me. “Oh, you wanna go?!?” I said to Action, “I’ll fight a baby, I do not care!” The owner laughed and told me not to worry, as she’s used to children and Action’s Antics has made her night quite enjoyable. *whew*
Yeeah, good times, except I’m probably Action’s next target since I ruined her last hit apparently. So, If you ever come by for dinner, please notice that we’ll probably only give you plastic silverware. It’s for your own good. Trust me.