Archive for June, 2013

Fattoush Salad and Other Fun Things

I saw some awful pretty bitter things on social media on Father’s Day — things I didn’t see at all on Mother’s Day. People were even calling it “Single Mother’s Day” and disregarding the fathers entirely. I’m not saying I condone it, but I understand.

I was raised with a dad, who busted his butt to provide for us and was always home by dinner time, but he wasn’t very involved at all. He was a psychotherapist. He listened to people all day long, so he kinda tuned out at the dinner table. He didn’t come to my recitals. We were mom’s sole responsibility on Saturdays and at bedtime. I can’t remember him ever reading me a story.

Before Hannibal dawned my Doty Avenue doorstep on Thanksgiving night in ’06, I was a happy single mother. Everything in my home was exactly where I put it. The environment was quiet and peaceful, so Mooch was a chill kid. I thought I’d never date again, because I had a daughter and I didn’t want anyone bothering her lady parts (scary stuff). I was content with it. Dating and the kid would remain separate. It was going to be me and Mooch — at least until she was eighteen.

Today, I can’t even imagine the past six and a half years without Hannibal. He is a true partner. Hannibal supports me and encourages me in all that I do — even when my ideas are a little way off the wall. More importantly, he is an AMAZING father. Mooch was almost three when she met him, and he has had a pivotal role in her development. He is her father figure, along with my brother, who has stepped in to teach her voice and answer millions of her questions.

Without Hannibal, we wouldn’t have Fuss, who is joined to his hip most days. She came to disrupt all peace and quiet and is definitely as far from chill as she could be. She provides the balance. Hannibal plus Fuss equals crunk, and they bring it out in all of us (I’m usually only crunk at parties and social events. I like my home dead silent.). He tells the most animated stories, shows up to every recital and school event, listens with intent, and showers the girls with affection. He sings, cooks, cleans, brings me flowers and cupcakes, washes dishes, and makes the bed. He does all this after working all week and sometimes all night, knowing the responsibility for the financial needs of the family rest primarily on his shoulders. Me and the girls are grateful.

We had a resplendent Father’s Day yesterday. In addition to new headphones (desperately needed), a “Super Dad” apron, and a swiss army knife, Mooch made Hannibal some homemade barbecue sauce, and Fuss made him tooth paste. I ended up taking over on the “breakfast in bed,” because the kids were pooped from making their gifts.

Homemade BBQ Sauce from Mooch

In the afternoon, we had halibut, curried quinoa (with raisins and almonds), chard, and fattoush salad. It was a very delicious meal prepared by yours truly. Just kidding. My sister-in-law made it. She’s awesome! The kids got to see my brother, his wife, and meet her mother, who had the best stories — like how she ran the preschool where the Black Panthers’ attended. ¬†We also had a lot to discuss, because Dr. Thelma Harms is world renowned in early childhood education.

The best Father's Day meal ever

We played the vegetable game and Go Fish. The kids had a special Father’s Day edition of Twister. He mostly won all the rounds. The way the dots are placed, that game is really not for children. Fuss and I built with Legos and blocks, and Mooch showed my brother her Beyblades.


Good times were had by all.

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