Sewing Machines Whirring

I’m losing control of my home. I guess that’s not accurate because it implies that at some point in time I actually had control of my home. And that’s just silly. But I am beginning to feel a bit overrun. And really the feeling has little to do with Harper and the ridiculous influx of baby junk that has invaded our apartment like a vagabond tribe of brightly colored, noise making squatters. It’s because of McCall’s new “business partners”.

See, last week McCall got the idea to start a bib making business. I don’t want to reveal too much because I know the top bib makers in the country are reading this blog and they would steal the idea. Lousy, thieving jerks. But basically it involves three women, a sewing machine and a bunch of fabric, which on it’s own sounds like it could be a bad sitcom. Or it could be a smash hit on the WB…oh wait.

Anyway, so now when I get home from work each day there’s usually two more females in the house than I’m used to. I’m sure any single guys reading this are thinking, "Sweet!” Meanwhile all the married men are thinking, “Yikes!” Because married men know that more women in your home is never a good thing. You have to be careful how you look at and talk to them. The “I was just reading her t-shirt” excuse can only be used so many times. Plus, the trademark Lawrence Charm can easily be mistaken for flirting and has the unfortunate side effect of making the ladies swoon. I can’t tell you how many times I walk away from a gaggle of women only to hear the familiar refrain of “He’s so dreamy!” Of course, I do tend to start conversations about Brad Pitt before walking away from gaggles of women, but I don’t think there’s any connection.

But there are really two major downsides to the additional estrogen. One, is I’m totally outnumbered when it comes to the TV. You might imagine my wife and her friends all gathered in a spare bedroom working away while I rule the television roost. But the reality is that they’ve set up shop in our dining room, which is connected to the living room. And neither of McCall’s friends are lesbians so they have zero interest in sports. And even if they were, they’d probably only want to watch the LPGA and WNBA. So here it is, Monday night, and instead of football, I get stuck with reruns of 7th Heaven. I sure hope Della Reese can save the day…oh wait.

But I have to say that the single biggest adjustment is the bathroom situation. Long ago, my father instilled in me the joy of toilet reading. The bathroom is one of the only places I can go to get a bit of privacy and I like to read my sports magazines on the john. Rick Reilly’s editorials in Sports Illustrated are the perfect bathroom readers. Just the right length and always a good read.

And although we have two bathrooms, I never use the guest bathroom. Meanwhile, our bathroom is connected to the office and when I got home today, I found McCall on her laptop, one of her friends on my laptop and a pressing urge to read suddenly becoming an embarrassing situation in the making. I mean, what I am I supposed to do? Drop off the kids at the pool while McCall and her friend sit ten feet away? The doors in our apartment aren’t exactly made of steel. So I did what any grown man should do in a similar situation. I waited until a more opportune time.

I know you may be thinking this is not a pleasant topic. Well, I don’t care! This is my everyday life. This is what it’s like to be Harper’s dad: sewing machines whirring, TV watching usurping, and bathroom going delaying. And at the end of the week what’s my reward? I got to watch the Cowboys lose to the Jacksonville Jaguars. Oh well, at least my fantasy team won…oh wait.