the school run

Answering the tough questions

The Children’s Mother has returned from Tanzania which means, besides the addition of some fresh flowers in the house, I can focus anew on what it is that I do. When you discover what this is, please tell me. Ah, yes, it’s answering questions. From the kids. Interesting questions. A full-time job, for sure, but […]

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Don’t read. Don’t feel. Don’t think. (And DON’T tell the kids.)

You never know what might happen when you pick up a book, even a book that has sat on your bookshelf for years like an old bottle of wine aged good and long for just the right moment. Such a book might even wake somebody up. That is the beauty of books, of course, their

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Big dogs, trouble, and the Balm of Gilead

It was last evening. “Dad,” she said. “Can I hold the leash?” “No.” “Please,” she said. “No.” Zack, our big-as-a house German Shepherd, has been a little disobedient on his walks lately, chasing the monkeys and whatnot. Liz wouldn’t be able to hold him. “Zack has given even Mum a hard time lately,” I said. “You

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Heaven. Sainthood. Mister Bubbles

Liz pulled out an old Bryan Adams CD on the school run this morning and the song Heaven came on and she liked it so much she played it again and pretended to sing it to Mister Bubbles, that is her cat. Huh. Once at the school, a friend came and sat for morning coffee.

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The joy of singleness. (Or … Ahhh, the single life. No vomit bag today)

My daughter vomited on the way to school yesterday morning. This, of course, is the sort of thing that makes any parent’s heart go pitter-patter, thump-thump, yes, one of the golden moments of any dad’s day. In our family, on what is a rather onerous school-run every weekday morning, vomiting, in fact, is sort of shared

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Eat. Pray. Drive.

Once there was a dad who, every morning on the way to school, would pray for safety on the road. He was in a foreign country and the driving was the most dangerous part. Sometimes he’d even pray at other times of the day, ‘God, just keep me alive in this place for the sake

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Captain Underpants and three pretty ladies

Me: “Good morning Captain Underpants!” Kid 1: “Morning Dad.” Kiss. ++ Me: “Hey Little Lady!” Kid 2: “Hi Dad.” Neck snuggle. ++ Me: “Good morning Pretty Girl!” Kid 3: “Uhhh.” Kiss (attempt). ++ Me: “Babe, you’re such a better surgeon that I am. Any way you could fix my watch band with some Crazy Glue?”

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Anaphylactic horror stories, responsibility, and little Elodie Glover

So the kids’ school, an international school in Kampala, has after-school clubs. They’re very handy to give Mom or Dad a bit of extra time to finish one chore or another before kid pick-up and that 45-minute drive home through the (ugh) Kampala traffic. Yes, the clubs are life-savers. Not. Take the baking club. My

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