I suppose I should introduce my family, shouldn’t I? After all, they are the reason I get up in the morning and face my fabulous, fancy life. And it starts with “H,” which stands for “Husband.” Or “Heart Attack,” because that’s where he’s headed unless he starts sleeping more, eating better, and working less. Oh and stop being a “gym sponsor” and actually use your membership, Big Boy. H is a wonderful man and the most loving father you’ll ever meet, but he’s also a driven workaholic if there ever was one. It’s all well and good to say, “Oh, well he should just work less and not be so fixated on money and then he’d be happier/healthier/home more.” But the reality is that H loves his work. And his work is an “all or nothing” kind of deal. It is what it is. And it’s 26 hours a day, 8 days a week, 382 days a year. It’s not about money or power. Although that does help to soften the blow when you miss your daughter’s first birthday or have to call your wife and tell her to put dinner in the fridge. Again.
Then there is The Princess. Oh, my. Don’t put a pea under this girl’s mattress. The Princess is our eldest daughter and is the most social, charming and adorable child there is. At Gymboree she’s not sitting in any circle, no thank you. She’s in the middle of that parachute, waving to the other mothers and their kids, as if to say, “Hello! Welcome to my Gymboree, have a good time!” And she cries when Gymbo sings “Bye bye,” because she’s a sensitive soul.
And then there’s Tough Cookie. TC is a few months younger than the Princess and is determined not to be left behind. So she crawled at 6 months and was cruising at 7. But TC doesn’t yet appreciate that her body hasn’t caught up with her mind and as a result is constantly falling into things. A couple weeks back she pulled my French Laundry cookbook off the shelf and landed on her face, giving her a fantastic purple cheek. Followed the next day by a slamming into the baby gate, resulting in a lovely blue line down her face. But TC can take it. And she loves her sister, even when the Princess is slapping her in the head with a toy. TC thinks that is very funny.
So that’s my family. The Fancies.