We’re big into imaginative play right now in our house. The girls will keep themselves occupied for hours playing house and dolls. Occasionally they prefer to have an adult take part. Liam is a much better sport at this than I am. He has infinitely more patience than I do. And he’s rather good at it all, I will admit.
I walked out of the bathroom this evening after enjoying a bubble bath to the following scene in the living room:
Liam is rocking Nora in his arms like a baby and swaying back and forth. He’s shushing her and she’s squinting her eyes tight, lying limp in his arms, pretending to be asleep.
He looks up at me and offers by way of an explanation: “We’re playing cats.” Obviously.
Frances then demands to be held in the same way. After her turn playing sleeping cat, Liam proceeds to tuck both girls in under the covers on the couch.
Nora: “Daddy cat?”
Liam: “Yes, baby cat?”
Nora: “Can you get me some milk?”
Liam: (offering up a bowl of pretend milk) “Sure, baby cat.”
Nora: (licks pretend milk out of bowl)
Liam: “You want milk too, big-sister cat?”
Frances: “Heh!” (this is Franny speak for yes).
After observing my adoring smile and subsequent grabbing of the laptop, Liam added, “Feel free NOT to write about me being daddy cat tonight on your blog.”
“Why?” I asked. “You don’t want people to know you’re a good dad?”
I get where he’s coming from. But this is my space for capturing memories. And, with all due respect, I think this is a sweet one. These girls love their dad.
In addition to playing baby cats, house and dolls with the girls, Liam’s also working with them on their putting game in the basement from time to time, while exposing them to Bobs Marley and Dylan. He’s teaching them how to build fires in the fireplace, do yard work, catch and throw, and lots of other respectable manly-fatherly types of pursuits. How well-rounded they’ll be.