Sorry for the long wait. I know you’re on pins and needles waiting for the next words… I hope not anyways.

So it’s official. We are mini van people. I don’t know what this means. I like to think of it as practical. Which in itself must be some sort of commentary to my age. Or perhaps, just priorities. Either way, we have bought a car not because it was the fun thing to do (granted, the process is never fun, I hate car dealerships).

But I did find myself sitting in the thing for an hour playing with all the dad friendly gadgetry that they put in there to make me feel better about driving it around. The wonderful part is it’s easy to put Monkey in and we will save a gagillion in gas since we were hauling the fam around in a Suburban.

Next up, Princess is a little compulsive. As she really grows in to two and is getting revved up for three, she has become quite particular about several things. Morgan says this is my fault due to my patterned behaviors in doing everyday things. I accept, but she’s still her mother’s child and for those of you who know my wife, you know the truth. I will say no more.

Want some examples of this funny and sometimes insane behavior? Of course you do. This is the best entertainment you’ve had all day.

Here we go. Our side steps where we most frequently enter the house or leave has an iron rail that splits it in two sides. Oh yeah, she’s got her side and we have ours.

Now what happens when Daddy goes down her side you may ask? Well, this is pretty much how it goes down. She sits down or stops moving altogether and insists, as if I have committed a cardinal sin, that Daddy has gone down HER side. I must ascend the stairs and return appropriately down the other side. All of this occurs under her careful supervision, of course.

This trend of her path/side/chair is pretty much how we go these days. We have tried to start mixing it up a little here and there. You know, just in case this is permanent 😉 Might as well get a jump.

Why do I tell you this? Well, this stair business combined with car entry procedures, especially with the new car (cough cough mini van) can take quite some time. Now, meanwhile, Monkey is strapped into his seat watching his sister orchestrate perfect house leaving and car loading procedures.

Never thought we’d say this, but it is way easier to get Monkey into the car than it is to get Princes in. And our special needs child is supposed to be the difficult part of this? Clearly our daughter got just the right combination of my quirky compulsiveness along with her mother’s natural ability to tell people exactly how to do something. The correct way of course.