A husband's way of helping

When P says "I'll take the kids to school tomorrow", I try to calm down this little expectation. Sleeping in one morning, huh? After a night of I don't know how many feedings, staying in the bed till 8am is a dream. But husbands are funny creatures who have a diffrent view on helping out with the kids.

One morning like that, the alarm goes at 6.45am. Not mine - yet... Whoever invented the snooze button, well I hope he/she has to listen to his/her significant other's alarm twenty times every morning. Twenty might seem a lot, but it's the price for inventing such a nuissance!

Then around 7.00 am, my alarm starts to buzz. To be honest, I do snooze it a couple of times as well. It's just learning by example, not my character. All that buzzing finally manages to wake up one of the kids - couple rooms further, which surprisingly causes P to get up, go to the restroom, close the door and start to answer his email on his Blackberry - along with the usual business. I will never get to know why calling children triggers this reaction. Never!

While the sounds in the other bedrooms get louder, I hang on to my dream of a free morning and ignore all the "Mooooooommyyyyy"s. A slight irritation starts building up. The longwaited flush of the toilet is unfortunately followed by the sound of the shower. Meanwhile, "Mooooooommyyyy"s are unbearable, the prospect of having the kids at the breakfast table before 7.40am is low and there is no way I can go back to sleep, I get up.

There's work to be done in the morning, mothers know. Miss A is having trouble picking her clothes and she is not willing to try it without help. Miss F is sitting on her usual spot in front of the closet; the clothes will come to her?! I take things into my hand and 20 minutes later, the girls are downstairs, including Miss N - in clothes, clean dipered and nursed. The breakfast (cereal and a glass of worm Nesquik, I won't pretend I prepare pancakes during the week) is ready. While we are eating, P comes downstairs, with his perfect hairdoe, smelling aftershave. He eats with us, and helps me to tell the girls to prepare their lunch - it's almost time to leave for school.

Everybody is ready, the lunch baskets are by the garage door, Miss N sits in her carseat, my blood is boiling from all the "Hurry up"s and "we are late"s; P says, "don't worry, I will bring the girls to the school, you can have an easy morning."

"???!"

Oh I love my husband. He is a nice person, he is a good person. He is a good father. He works hard; and he is the son I never had, ha ha!

At 2.30pm pick up at school, Munisha says, "I saw P this morning, did you get to sleep in?" I tell her the story and I love the expression on her face. She understands.