Dad, You’re Such a Chick

Posted on October 13, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

That’s what our youngest told her dad because he spent too much time in the shower, according to her clock, anyway.

“Be quiet or I’ll hit you with my pom poms.”

That’s how the dad replied.

Our house can be worse than a traffic jam on the Dan Ryan in the morning. With two teenage daughters fighting to get – and stay in – the bathroom in the morning, it’s definitely not boring. Add Dad to the mix as he’s getting ready for work, and it gets even more interesting. It’s not wonder I stay in my robe until noon.

Not really – well, sometimes.

And poor Dad, can you blame him? He’s lived with me and our four daughters – five females – for so many years, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make peace, including being called a 6’3″ chick with whiskers.

But it’s all good fun.  Usually. Most of the time, well, sometimes.

Now, as I should be working, my mind keeps pulling me back to the bathroom, where I’m certain a sink full of a chick’s whiskers are waiting to be cleaned away, and an assortment of makeup, brushes, and curling irons are attempting to take up permanent residence on top of the vanity.

I’m starting to think that cleaning up after them is a chick’s job. And I know the perfect one for the job.


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