Page 49 of Puck the Halls
“That’s one ofmyfavorite things,” Dani says, giving me a flirty little smile as she comes from the kitchen into the dining room with a coffee pot to refill all the mugs.
I give her a wink and she blushes even from across the room.
Dani keeps moving between the kitchen, the dining room and the basement where her dad is playing video games with Wade and Erika.
Okay, that’s something different. Wade isn’t usually at our house and I’ll admit even I was a little wary about Wade being the one in charge of entertaining Dani’s dad. But judging by the whoops and yells and laughter coming up the stairs, I’d say it’s going pretty well.
Nathan is across from me on the couch holding Oliver, who is sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. Nathan is reading something on his phone, but I know that he’s actually listening to all the commotion around him because he has that goofy half smile on his face that has become more and more common over the years.
I’m on Isabel duty. That’s my usual gig early in the day when our little girl is full of energy and ready togo. We’ve already been outside in the snow and now we’re on the living room floor playing with her new blocks.
At least we were before she found the Scotch tape roll that someone accidentally left near the television after our gift wrapping marathon.
“Give Daddy the tape Izzy,” I tell her, holding out my hand.
I used to think that I wasn’t going to have to be any kind of disciplinarian or give the kids any rules. After all, they have three other parents and two other fathers who are kind of big on rules and being responsible.
But it has only taken me two years with Isabel to realize that giving your kids rules isn’t about being no fun or a hard ass. It’s about keeping them safe and helping them not be assholes.
Even gorgeous little girls who look like their mother and who are brilliant and funny and the light of my life can be little assholes sometimes. Like when they try to stick tape onto everything they can reach, including the front of the television set, the TV remote, and their little brother’s pacifier.
I’ve peeled tape off of all of those things so far and I’m afraid that I might’ve missed something.
“No,” she tells me clearly. She says it cheerfully, but without hesitation.
‘No’ was one of the very first words she learned.
Considering how sweet and submissive her mama is, we all thought that was pretty funny.
It’s not as funny now.
“Then give Papa the Scotch tape,” I suggest.
For a while we had gone by Daddy One, Daddy Two, and Daddy Three but over time it shifted and now I’m Daddy, Michael is Dad, and Nathan is Papa.
“No,” Isabel tells me again, tearing off a piece of tape and sticking it on the cover of one of Dani’s novels on the end table.
I sigh and carefully remove the piece.
“Stop!” Isabel tells me.
“You can’t put tape on everything,” I tell her.
“Yes.“ She tears off another piece of tape and puts it back on the book.
“Tape doesn’t go on books,” I tell her, peeling it off again. “It goes on presents.”
She points at the book. “Present for Mama.” Then she tears off another piece of tape and sticks it on the book.
I could take the book away, of course, but there are four other books on the table under this one.
And that’s not the point.
“Isabel, you need to listen,” I say, tapping my ear. “Give the tape to Daddy.”
“No.” Then she goes running toward the dining room.
“Just take it away from her,” Nathan says with the weary voice he often uses in these situations. He loves to be listened to and obeyed. Whether it’s around a board room table, on a conference call, in the bedroom, or with our kids.
