Whenever I sit down to work on #DaddyWrite, the very first
thing that I want to do is come up with a hook.
You know, the sharp, pointy object used to catch fish? The short punch used in boxing? The thing that takes up residence on the left
hand of Peter Pan's antagonist? No, none
of those are remotely accurate.
Something that attracts attention or serves as an enticement? Hey, that's it. **Sigh of relief** I didn't think we were going to discover the
correct meaning of 'hook'. Oh yes, in
case you're wondering, the purpose of that little tangent was solely meant to
fill some space because I had no idea for how to begin this blog post (I could
just dive into the meat of it, but like a singer needs to warm up her voice, I
need to warm...up...my...fingers?).
The last couple of days have actually been really eventful
for Ellie and me. While I actually hadn't
set out to fill them, sometimes things happen.
There's nothing wrong with that though.
I knew Tuesday that our schedule would be a little full since I was
meeting a buddy for a business lunch.
Wait, hold on. Business lunch? Ok, maybe I oversold that because there's no
money involved; just a bunch of freelance writing. I'll take it though. Beggars can't be choosers. Of course, as my partner-in-crime, Ellie was
along for the ride! And boy, did we
ride.
 |
| The Venn Diagram confirms it once and for all that beggars cannot be choosers. |
After meeting John at a Dunkin' Donuts, we decided that the
mature thing to do was to not eat our weight in donuts for lunch. Taking that into account, I loaded Ellie back
up and headed down the street to White Horse Pub for some quality Americanized
British food. Imagine our surprise when
we arrived and the restaurant was closed on Tuesdays. With no other recourse, we headed back to
Dunkin' Donuts to eat our weight in tasty, doughy goodness. Actually that's a lie. We just went to Minsky's to get pizza instead. Sorry.
It's actually a blast to take Ellie out to eat right
now. She's grown enough and has
good enough control that she can sit upright in a restaurant's child seat with
absolutely no issues. Of course, the one
downside of that is that she has a desire to try and dig her little meat hooks (Bah!)
into everything on the table. Knowing
that was the case, I asked the nice staff at Minsky's for a package of crackers
to feed Ellie. Imagine my surprise when I instead received a breadstick for
her.
 |
| America. Land of the free and home of the brave...breadstick. |
Like any good dad, my first inclination was to just shove it
in there and see what happened. Needless
to say, Ellie was not a fan of the combination of Italian seasoning and hard
crust (Weird baby). Taking that into
account, I instead performed brief surgery, carefully scraping the crust from
the top and bottom of the breadstick, leaving only the soft, doughy interior. Luckily for me, Ellie found that flavor to be
a better fit for her palate. Before I
knew it, I had fed her the entire breadstick and she was doing whatever the
baby equivalent of rubbing her belly in satisfaction is. Shortly thereafter, John and I finished our
meals and parted ways.
I'm absolutely in love with the fact that Ellie loves to be
out and about so much right now. I don't
find myself checking my ankle to make sure I'm not on house arrest anymore. The one negative is that if I'm spending so
much time out and about, then all fourteen of my faithful readers will suffer from a less-than-compelling first paragraph. It's just like fishing; sometimes you'll get hooked, other times you won't (#BadJoke). #DaddyWrite
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