The girls are seeking my counsel on gifts for Sarah when they visit Finland.
"She likes chocolate," I finally respond, "and they have good stuff in Europe ... um ... Toblerone! Get her chocolate! You can't go wrong."
Fast forward two-and-a-half weeks as the girls return home, excited to share their gifts though they are sleep deprived after leaving Helsinki to Stockholm then London for an overnight before New York to Savannah and the drive to Tybee Island.
Of course I get three GIANT bars of Toblerone chocolate because ... somehow in their heads they are convinced it's what I wanted from Europe.
Their Mom got some too but much smaller bars, along with Milk chocolate from Poland.
I feel incredibly secure because if someone attempts to break into our house I can hurl the massive bars at them as lethal weapons.
"Aren't you going to eat it?" I'm repeatedly asked.
Eying the three pounds of chocolate, I wouldn't know where to start.
For now it occupies several feet of kitchen counter space.
"Are you ready for them to come home?" I was asked a couple of days ago.
"Hmmm," I ponder before answering. "I've enjoyed every F'ing second they've been gone ... but ... I miss them."
Now they're here and a house that was immaculate yesterday suddenly looks like a Victoria Secret's supply plane crashed into it.
The decimal level of their dialogue ... all simultaneous overlapping conversations having nothing to do with each other ... makes the dog hide under the bed covering their ears.
Each demands we do something different at the same time while making plans ensuring neither Sarah nor I will have any private time for the next several weeks.
But ... each slides up behind to hug me without warning ... throw wet hair in my face to kiss me goodnight ... asks if I can help with something meaningless ... eats the last of the cereal I'm craving ... and demand their favorite meals, each something I detest, for dinner.
Now they are binge watching "The Bachelorette."
In spite of everything that's gone wrong in my life, I know I am a lucky man ... blessed beyond imagination in spite of a complete lack of financing, an ex-wife happy to sue, bleak job prospects and a rather large contingency of people who really don't care for me.
I meander in and out to check on my girls as they're sprawled on the couch in front of the television while holding electronic devices while the baby sleeps.
It's easy to count your blessings when they're right in front of you.
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