That’s the song they play at FAO Schwartz*, which I used to sing when my husband would announce to me, on any of the rare occasions during my maternity leave when he actually did an hour or two of solo baby-wrangling, that baby-wrangling is really hard and it’s darn near impossible to get much else done while you do it.
Things have changed a lot in almost 2 years, and Dada and Henry have just returned from 3-day male-bonding journey to the highlands–the third solo weekend trip they’ve made this summer as Mommy continues trying to publish rather than perish. Mommy stayed home and worked on her book and her blog and ate takeout and even went to a matinee. Henry missed almost all his naps and ate off Dada’s plate at some of the finest restaurants in the high country and had all kinds of adventures and by the time he got home was the happiest, most completely hyperactive little maniac you’ve ever seen. Dada was a little exhausted, and very annoyed that Mommy was blissfully peaceful and had done almost none of the laundry they left behind.
But Mommy also missed her guys like crazy, and when she picked up Henry he clung to her so hard and for so long she almost wept. Dada seemed pretty happy to see her, too.
*For MP3 of the full song click here. But are you sure you really want to? It’s the kind of earworm that can crawl into your head and wiggle around for days until you go completely psycho. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
