Big Mister and I went to see Daddy today at work...
The idea that his Daddy is a 'docta' just tickled him a little bit ago now.
(forgive me if I've already told you that fact because as of right now I can't remember.)
It was early one morning as the kids had already gone off to school-
He was playing alone in the Great Room as I was right in the kitchen cleaning up.
Moma, where is Daddy. Is he home!?
No, Daddy is at the Hospital-
What?! The Hopspital?
Realizing he thinks his Daddy is hurt or sick I explain his Daddy is at the Hospital taking care of people.
He grinned from ear to ear as he said,
my Daddy's a Docta.
Baby number 4 who I can count on my hands the number of times he has been to the hospital to eat in the cafeteria with his Daddy. Poor thing is missing out.
So today we packed up, just he and I, and headed that way at lunch time.
We met Daddy at his office. Once we were there he was just finishing up and had to get a quick lunch in before he had to operate. He suggested we head to Chick-fil-A.
((not to offend but Chick-fil-A is one of my least favorite places to go for lunch, it is CRAZY busy!))
In fact my husband said,
"I know you would rather not go there... but I need to eat someplace really quick,
I only have about 15 minutes, my first case starts at 1:30."
It was a plan. When we got to the parking lot we each got in our seperate cars and did what we've done for many years now, we raced there-
Our big mister saying out the window just before we leave,
no false starts!
Just after Daddy said his good byes the Big Mister came back to our table from the play area and proclaims loud enough for the other nearby Moma's to hear,
Mommy, that boy in there called me a poopy-head.
He did? I glance over my shoulder and lock eyes with another mom.
For an instant I hoped it wasn't her child that said that because she gave me the sweet mom smile that said, I've been there before. I lean in and hug Big Mister and tell him,
that wasn't very nice.
He pulls back and looks at me with a matter-of-fact look on his face-
I told him my name was 'Nickle-us' but he stilled called me poopy-head.
Oh, sweet shugar.