Daddy's Cold Voice

Dan and I took this week off from work, mostly because we had some days off to burn.  I probably need the time away from work, and I'm sure it won't hurt Dan, either.  With Cal in Kindergarten now, though, we're a little tied to home; so we didn't plan any getaway other than a last-minute (i.e. it's still being planned) "getaway" to in-town, kidless dining, shopping and an overnight stay at a hotel.

So the kids will be going to school every day this week.  Without the pressures of having to catch a train at a particular time, I'm anticipating some easy mornings... I mean, easiER mornings.  I would never suggest any morning is ever actually easy with the Leatherkids.
 
Today, Day 1 of our week off from work, was "easy" morning #1.  Many hours have passed since I lived it, but I really don't remember there being the usual struggle with getting Ella to use the potty, wash her hands and try to get herself dressed.  I guess she technically didn't "use" the potty, peeing on the floor beside it and then stepping in her urine, unfazed by any of it; but other than that, I just remember her being relatively pleasant and cooperative.  Ella is rarely pleasant and cooperative in the morning.  And Cal?  Cal got himself dressed and downstairs quietly and without any drama.

Now, Dan has a cold.  One of the symptoms of that cold is a raspy, somewhat weak voice.  We must not get a lot of colds in the Leatherman house because the kids actually noticed Dan's voice wasn't what it usually is.
 
"What's wrong with your voice, Daddy?"  I think both of them asked in the middle of our slower-paced weekday morning routine, to which Dan responded that he had a cold.
 
With stuffed animals and books to take to school chosen, backpacks packed, shoes and jackets on, morning snacks eaten, ponies put in hair and kisses, hugs and goodbyes exchanged with Daddy, the Leatherkids and I were heading out the door to head to school. 

"Bye, Daddy," Cal said with a fake, gutty and raspy growl as he walked out the door, smiling as he did so.  It's hard to describe how funny it was; I think at the root of the funniness was that it was unexpected and clever.

"Bye, Cal," Dan responded with his genuine, raspy cold voice.
 
"Why are you talking like that, Daddy?" Ella asked as she walked out on Cal's heels, as if she hadn't asked him the same question five minutes earlier.  Not that she was really seeking an answer.  Two steps into the garage she had forgotten her question and was already going into her get-in-the-car banter.  "Can you hold me, Mommy?  My shoe is coming off.  Where's my baby?  You sit by me, Mommy?  Cal Daniel is in Kindergarten.  You hold this, Mommy.  I get in myself..." The list of Ella get-in-car-isms is virtually endless.

Anyway, Daddy's cold voice inspired some Leatherkid banter that quietly amused this Leathermommy this morning.