There have been two guarantees in my life lately: 1) Alexis has immediately started screaming that she wants her Daddy when she wakes up in the morning and 2) Alexis has asked if we can "Go back to Disney World, please?" at least 4,231 times per day. Now, Mr. Husband is more than long gone before either of his chicks are brave enough to open even one eye in the morning, so the odds of Alexis getting to see him before school are about as good as her odds of going to another Mickey Party tonight.

It ain't happening.

Try as I might to convince the kid that "Daddy is at work," she just wasn't getting it. There was screaming, there was whining, there was fit throwing.

At 6:30 AM

I don't like anything that includes the annoying little letters "AM," and I especially don't like them if they are preceded by an hour that is in the single digits.

So, in an effort to make the madness stop, I tried to explain to Alexis that Daddy has to go to work so that he can make money. We need money to go back to Disney World. Ergo, if she wants to go to Disney World, she needs to shut up about her Daddy at way too early o'clock.

(Those may not have been my exact words.)

She seemed to have understood. She stopped fussing, and on day two of this brave new world where Daddy leaves his little girl for the greater good, she didn't get all melty on me while I was trying to take a shower.

It's beautiful having a kid old enough to sort of understand your crazy explanations.

This afternoon as I was driving Miss Alexis to the park for a little fun on the slides, she declared, "Daddy's at work. He's making money so we can go to Disney World."

"That's right," I replied. "And do you know why Mommy goes to work?" I asked.

"No reason," she said.

Don't I wish THAT were the truth.