An outside perspective
As most of you know, Christine was out of the country from October 25th through November 4th. The boys and I drove to the maritimes to meet her and her dad when they returned on November 4th, but that's a story for another time. If ever. Seriously. I drove with both boys in the car for eleven hours as the only adult(-ish type person) and there's actually very little to tell. I literally cannot imagine how the trip could've gone more smoothly.
Anyway. While she was away I kept things both as normal as possible for the boys (despite they were now functioning in essentially a single-parent home) and as busy for them as possible. The latter so they didn't have time to (a) get bored and drive me insane and (b) ask a lot of questions about where mom was and when she was coming back and why she had to leave and such.
The plan worked flawlessly. Up to and including when I had my friend, Paul, come over on Hallowe'en night to hand out candy while I took James and Daniel out trick-or-treating.
Okay, I lie, the trick-or-treating part was an absolute, orbital bombardment of cluster-f**kery for Daniel at one point when he tripped and his plastic Paw Patrol treat bucket shattered and I tried to convince him he could just use the bag I was carrying instead, but that only lasted a half-dozen houses at most. One of our neighbours had a spare pumpkin pail they offered him and he eventually took it, sobbed for probably another three houses and by the end of the evening it was all forgotten.
That aside, we did great, just us guys.
One thing we did twice in the ten days we were on our own was to visit James' (and, if we're being honest, probably mine as well) favourite restaurants in town. It's a little burger joint done up in the style of the 50s roadside diners. We tend to sit in the same table most of the time and there's an Andrews Sisters record sleeve on the wall that I'm fascinated by. It never fails to remind me of Fred MacFarlane and his record collection. He was a really interesting guy. But I digress.
The staff don't wear poodle-skirts and saddle shoes, but otherwise they do really well at keeping the 50s vibe up, including a giant fibreglass parfait glass that rotates when they're making milkshakes.
The milkshakes are good, the food is good, the atmosphere is cool and they regularly have bison, ostrich and kangaroo on the menu in addition to the more common meats you find 'round these parts. So we go there reasonably often.
The thing is, I also take them there alone reasonably often, I guess. I hadn't really noticed, but it's one of those things that, y'know, if we have some time free around lunch or dinner and I'm feeling brave, I'll offer to take them there and they're always thrilled.
So the second time I had them in while Christine was a way, while I was paying our bill the owner (or maybe the owner's wife? I don't know, she's the only one I've ever seen there who seems to be really in charge, so I'm guessing it's her joint) said to me: "I haven't seen their mom in a long time," nodding at the boys.
I smiled and explained that their mom was out of town on some urgent family business, but that she'd likely be with us the next time we were in. James then volunteered that we were going on a long drive to Mamoo's the upcoming Friday and I filled her in on a bit more of the details (we were driving to meet Christine at the airport when she flew back to her home town).
Afterward the thought briefly occurred that maybe she was thinking if I was a single dad, and things seemed to be going pretty well, maybe she had someone she wanted to fix me up with or something. Questions that shall remain forever unanswered.
Anyway, true to my word, the next time we were in it was the whole family and the boys were absolute animals. Shouting, fighting, antsy as hell, the whole nine yards.
This time when I was paying our bill the owner whispered to me, "they're so quiet when they're here with you!"
Anyway. While she was away I kept things both as normal as possible for the boys (despite they were now functioning in essentially a single-parent home) and as busy for them as possible. The latter so they didn't have time to (a) get bored and drive me insane and (b) ask a lot of questions about where mom was and when she was coming back and why she had to leave and such.
The plan worked flawlessly. Up to and including when I had my friend, Paul, come over on Hallowe'en night to hand out candy while I took James and Daniel out trick-or-treating.
Okay, I lie, the trick-or-treating part was an absolute, orbital bombardment of cluster-f**kery for Daniel at one point when he tripped and his plastic Paw Patrol treat bucket shattered and I tried to convince him he could just use the bag I was carrying instead, but that only lasted a half-dozen houses at most. One of our neighbours had a spare pumpkin pail they offered him and he eventually took it, sobbed for probably another three houses and by the end of the evening it was all forgotten.
That aside, we did great, just us guys.
One thing we did twice in the ten days we were on our own was to visit James' (and, if we're being honest, probably mine as well) favourite restaurants in town. It's a little burger joint done up in the style of the 50s roadside diners. We tend to sit in the same table most of the time and there's an Andrews Sisters record sleeve on the wall that I'm fascinated by. It never fails to remind me of Fred MacFarlane and his record collection. He was a really interesting guy. But I digress.
The staff don't wear poodle-skirts and saddle shoes, but otherwise they do really well at keeping the 50s vibe up, including a giant fibreglass parfait glass that rotates when they're making milkshakes.
The milkshakes are good, the food is good, the atmosphere is cool and they regularly have bison, ostrich and kangaroo on the menu in addition to the more common meats you find 'round these parts. So we go there reasonably often.
The thing is, I also take them there alone reasonably often, I guess. I hadn't really noticed, but it's one of those things that, y'know, if we have some time free around lunch or dinner and I'm feeling brave, I'll offer to take them there and they're always thrilled.
So the second time I had them in while Christine was a way, while I was paying our bill the owner (or maybe the owner's wife? I don't know, she's the only one I've ever seen there who seems to be really in charge, so I'm guessing it's her joint) said to me: "I haven't seen their mom in a long time," nodding at the boys.
I smiled and explained that their mom was out of town on some urgent family business, but that she'd likely be with us the next time we were in. James then volunteered that we were going on a long drive to Mamoo's the upcoming Friday and I filled her in on a bit more of the details (we were driving to meet Christine at the airport when she flew back to her home town).
Afterward the thought briefly occurred that maybe she was thinking if I was a single dad, and things seemed to be going pretty well, maybe she had someone she wanted to fix me up with or something. Questions that shall remain forever unanswered.
Anyway, true to my word, the next time we were in it was the whole family and the boys were absolute animals. Shouting, fighting, antsy as hell, the whole nine yards.
This time when I was paying our bill the owner whispered to me, "they're so quiet when they're here with you!"
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