The reply from my Facebook friends was swift: “Savvy can NOT wear a swimsuit to gymnastics class.”
Well, I should say that the responses from my female friends was swift; I’m not sure my guy friends even had an opinion, and one or two may have sided with me. But fair enough. I know when I’m outnumbered. But if BuyMart didn’t have them, I was screwed. It could turn into a whole long ordeal of shopping, driving from store to store… BuyMart had to come through for me. But there were problems with going to BuyMart.
Not like the problems we’d had going to Publix; those scars have yet to fully heal, but BuyMart is a different animal. Going to BuyMart used to be easy. And fast.
There was a time when I was able to run right in, get my stuff, and leave, no muss, no fuss. I was probably single back then, when I could do that.
As a married guy, it became only slightly more involved. I would usually text or call the wife and say, “Hey, I’m going at BuyMart; do you need anything?” Usually she would reply with a simple “No; thanks for asking,” but that call might also result in a few items being added to my shopping list, or maybe a bunch of stuff.
If it was a bunch of stuff she wanted and I was in a rush, I just lied and said they didn’t have it. Don’t judge me. But since becoming a parent, or more accurately, since becoming Savvy’s Dad – my new identity; I’m no longer Dan, I’m just Savvy’s Dad. I’m Savvy’s Dad, her chauffer, her chef… her butt wiper… some identity.
Well… she has two chauffers and butt wipers…
But as Savvy’s Dad, it is a longer trip around BuyMart, and it doesn’t often go as planned. Stupidly, I keep planning on running in and just getting my stuff and running out. I haven’t been able to do that since, oh, three and a half years? You’d think I’d wise up.
It’s like my joke about being punctual. I like to say that I was usually on time when I was single; when I got married, I ran about 15 minutes late all the time. Add a kid into the equation and all bets are off. I may not show up at all, and I won’t have a good explanation. When you see me a few days later, don’t ask me what happened; I won’t have any idea. I had a plan, I started to execute the plan… then something happened with the baby. Next thing you know, it was four hours later. With kids, stuff just happens.
When Savvy was little, the interruptions – train derailments, really – were things like unscheduled bottle breaks or diaper changes. We’d be on our way out the door, about 15 minutes late, and Savvy would start crying for a bottle. Well, ya gotta feed her. So that takes a few minutes. We didn’t usually do it in the car because those car seats are crazy difficult to remove when a kid throws up on them. I’d rather be another 15 minutes late than spend the rest of the day hosing down the inside of the car. Then, we’d get her fed and be almost out the door, and she would need a diaper change. Can’t have her sitting in that uncomfortable mess for our drive, so we’d change her. Sometimes a diaper change necessitates a clothing change – maybe for the baby, maybe for you – so there’s that. Things can get messy for all involved, with some of those diaper changes. And about that time you really start to weigh whether you want to go to this party or whatever anyway. A nap is starting to sound pretty good… But you regroup, pile into the car, and start driving – and the kid zonks out. When you finally arrive, everybody wants to see the baby and, well, the baby is asleep for the next 2 hours. Around that time you realize, you spent a lot of time getting ready, but nobody would have even noticed if you didn’t shower. You could have showed up without your pants, nobody would care. You are just the baby’s driver.
And that’s okay. There’s a lot of freedom in realizing that.
Pants are overrated.