Showing posts with label Leap Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leap Year. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Happy Leap Day

By Maxx Danielson (Guest Barker)
Happy Leap Day everyone! Once every four years Dad lets me post a guest blog, and since I’m only three years old, this is a real treat. Normally, I’m jumping for joy, but lately, Dad’s been so busy editing his next book that I barely get any attention. Oh, sure, he’ll play for a few minutes when I press my stuffed squirrel or knotted rope into his side, but then he goes right back into his office and bangs away on the keyboard. At that point I have no choice but to lie down next to him and supervise. My job is never done.

Two days ago Dad went back to work after being home for an extended time. Now it’s just Mom and me, and as much as I love her, I do miss my dad. I don’t really understand why he leaves us for days at a time, but it must have something to do with his black suitcase. Whenever it comes out, Dad disappears. I’m having serious thoughts of ripping up that stupid bag so he won’t leave us again.

It’s been a real interesting winter for me. Denver has had more snow this February than anyone can remember, and that has been a problem for me. You see, I love tromping in the snow, but my coat is so fine and curly that it turns me into a walking snowball. And since Mom and Dad don’t like wet floors, they scoop me up at the door and spend the next five minutes toweling me dry. It’s annoying, but I tolerate it because I love them.

It’s also squirrel season, and I really hate squirrels. As the head of security for the Danielson household, my job is to keep these furry rodents out of the backyard – and I take my job very seriously. They see me coming and they spring up a tree. Sometimes they taunt me when they get to the top and all I can do is bark and wait. If I could fly like my dad, there’d be in trouble.

Dad’s next story is about ghosts, and that concerns me. He keeps telling everyone it’s based on a real haunting in a Fort Worth theater, but I’m not so sure. Personally, I think he’s flipped his lid, but what do I know? All I want is for him to come home.

Dad, if you’re out there, you’re welcome for me taking up the slack while you’re out flying around the country. Four years seems like a long time to wait before I can do this again, but I suppose that’s how it works. For those of you who are Irish, it’s Leap Year, so get engaged. If you’re not, get with someone you love and celebrate the extra day any way you can. As for me, I’ll be at the front door waiting for Dad to come home.