My wife is out of town at girls camp. I spent all day Monday with the kids. No one started bleeding. Nothing caught on fire. Everyone is still breathing. It was a good day.

I think a father’s standards are a bit different than a mother’s.

My wife’s standards for our children are somewhere above aesthetic needs (she will spend hours decorating a cake for them) and just below self-actualization (my son is only three, after all).

When I’m in charge of the kids for a day, my standards tend to hover about 5-6 rungs down the ladder:

Yes, when dad is in charge safety is questionable (like, say, allowing your one year-old daughter to be put in the center of a truck tire tube which is rapidly being inflated with water to the point it bursts around her) and physiological needs tend to be met in only the most literal of ways (“Don’t eat that. Oh, well.”).

Thank heaven for grandmas, ya know?

I’m very excited for my wife to come home today. That being said, I’m sure the kids are more excited.

Images courtesy of here.