Wedding Chronicles - The Walking Dad

cem (56)in #wedding • 7 years ago (edited)

6 days left. The kids are pumped and we are tired. We really look forward to the wedding but we need our sunday morning "chill"

Easy like sunday morning

Sunday mornings are supposed to be chill, right? They write song after song about the most beautiful of mornings and somehow I can't relate anymore. It used to be different. Hangover or not, sunday morning used to be filled with chill. No stress, no worries and most of, no horde of little zombies hunting you.

The worst thing about sunday mornings is that there is no school, no sports or any other activities. People fifty years ago didn't have a hard job in raising the kids. 5 or 6 days a week school and on the seventh day the lord sheppards them. At this point I am seriously considering sending the kids to church for the sunday prayer. Even if it's only so I can scare them by reading the news about the molesting pastors and bishops out loud. That will surely teach them.

Before we even have opened our eyes from our well deserved nightsleep after "family saturday" the first cries are heard. And family staurday is more like "Terrorize parents day" as they all have energy from doing nothing at school five days in a row. So I wake up in the middle of what is supposed to be a beautiful morning just to stumble across the first signs of a struggle. Clothes and debris all over the place (Most of these clothing is simply pulled out of the closet as they don't like the clothes we chose for them to wear the evening before).

Le(t)(it)go

Experience has thought me that this morning has a high risk of stepping onto some Lego, most of the time hidden under a sock or some underwear. A minefield really. And you can imagine that before coffee and breakfast I feel like a zombie myself. I walk around with my eyes pinched together as the light coming in through the blends still hurts. How many years have I been sleeping? In the distance I hear another cry. Now it's one of the girls, and from the sound of it she's getting her head banged against the livingroom closet.

It's pandemonium out there. And I feel like I just starred in the Hangover, playing the guy who was lost the entire movie. They must have roofied me the night before. When I walk down the stairs I almost slip and break my neck as one of the boys decided to "Hotwheel" the stairs. Marv, I feel you! Finally I made it downstairs. When I walk into the livingroom I find an orgy of evidence pointing at three little bandits eating and drinking secretly. The fourth one is silent and very focussed absorbing the "Mickey Mouse Club". Full metal Jacket all over.

After I subject them to a short but firm interrogation things become clear. One woke the other ones and they started their rampage in the room of their little brother. They then decided to re-arrange their closets as it was more fitting to play in them without the clothes in there. Once downstairs the silent one grabbed a chair to plunder the cabinets and drinks. I decide I have heard enough. I tell them to clean the room and start preparing for breakfast as I am ready to get some freshly baked bread from the bakery. They look at me very depressed and ask me "Why?"

We all are Negan

Because I said so. There I said. I did. This is not a democracy. I'm the law. Judge, Jury and executioner all at once. I decide what happens next and noone else. I have to reap the moment as the bride-to-be wakes up any second now and I instantly become the deputy once she is around. She is my Negan really.

The kids hear her waking up and the squeeky high pitched "mama, mama, mama" slowly starts again. That's it, I'm off to church.