Saturday, January 14, 2017

Mr. Good Daddy....

There is one little story from Tess's most recent stay at the hospital that I haven't really told a lot of people yet. It's one that makes me feel both indignant and ready to burst into laughter in equal amounts, mood depending.

Have a seat and enjoy my little tale.  I know Charlie did.

As we were sitting there one morning, I believe it was day nine, the woman who had been cleaning Tess's room came in to do her daily routine. It had been Charlie's night to stay at the hospital but we were both sitting in what had become our regular chairs and we exchanged the polite "good morning and thank you for cleaning the room.", pleasantries when she decided that this was the perfect time to give us her opinion on our parenting. Or rather, on Charlie's and in a subtle, passive aggressive way, mine.

And I quote:

"You (she pointed at Charlie with a wide smile) always right there. I come in, you always there in that chair. She (pointed at me and instantly loses her smile), she come and go, but you always right there. You (points and smiles at him again) good daddy." She even nodded in affirmation to complete the point she was making then she mopped her way into the bathroom as I swung around in total disbelief at what she had just said to look at the "good daddy" and get his reaction. 

He went right back to reading whatever he had been reading when she came in.

What the what?!  

Me (whisper shrieking at him): "Did you hear what she just said?!" 

Him: "Yeah, she said I'm a good daddy."

Me: "Did you understand all of what she just said besides that?!"

Him: "Not really."

Because she had a pretty thick accent, Charlie hadn't picked up on everything she had said.  It was only after I had picked my jaw up off of the floor and told  him verbatim what she had just said and that basically, I, the clearly not so good mother, come and go at my leisure as he,  the "good daddy", sits constant vigil by his sick daughter's bedside, did he fully appreciate it. 

And boy oh boy, the man lapped it up like a kitten with cream.

I'm here to tell you, "good daddy" fluffed up and preened like a peacock while enjoying a pretty hearty laugh at my expense.

Meanwhile I was stuttering and stammering and still whisper shrieking at him, "How DARE she come in here and imply that I am hardly here and that I just come and go whenever the mood strikes as if I don't have a care in the world when I'm here every bit as much as you and we split our time here at night?! Plus you were gone for FIVE HOURS during the day yesterday! Where the hell was she then?! Maybe I should just tell your new girlfriend that! What nerve!" 

Charlie just looked at me and let me go on for a few minutes before chiming back in with this little gem:

"What can I say? You come and go. I'm always here. I'm a good daddy." 

And trust me when I tell you, he is going to make damn sure I am reminded of that on a regular basis. And if he should somehow forget, I know a cleaning lady at Maine Medical who will apparently be only to happy to tell me so herself. 


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