1. Telling them, “Okay, it’s time to go. Kids, please get your shoes on.”
2. Adding, “Kids. Get your shoes on.”
3. Acknowledging that, yes, I KNOW they’re drawing pictures, but like I said, it’s time to go. Like right now.
4. Yes. Right now. This very instant. This moment in time. NOW.
5. Telling them to stop claiming they don’t know how to put their shoes on.
6. Telling them Santa is watching.
7. Reminding them that our Elf on the Shelf is right over there. See?
8. Saying that I’m sure the Easter Bunny is taking notes, too.
9. Telling them, no, Easter is not for a few months, but the important part is getting their f*cking shoes on.
10. Reminding them that Jesus is watching, too. Surely Jesus would get HIS shoes on.
11. Telling them that Big Brother is also watching, and realizing that it is a reference they will not understand, and explaining that, no, they do not have another brother, but that they DO have…to put their f*cking shoes on.
12. Saying I’m leaving without them.
13. Telling them no, no, no, of course I would never leave without them…as long as they put their f*cking shoes on.
14. Asking them to stop crying, I’m seriously not leaving without you. But now that I have your attention, please put your f*cking shoes on.
15. Telling them their shoes are hungry for feet. Look! Their tongues are sticking out!
16. “It’s a race! Who’s going to put theirs on first?”
17. “Second place is still pretty great. Stop crying.”
18. Saying we’re going to be late.
19. Telling them I know they don’t care if we’re late, but Daddy does.
20. Suggesting they might get a “treat” if they listen.
21. Saying they’ll never know what the treat is if they don’t put their f*cking shoes on.
22. Telling them to stop guessing what the treat is and put their f*cking shoes on.
23. Realizing I have no idea what the treat will be if they ever put their f*cking shoes on.
24. Asking them calmly if there is any particular reason they will not put their f*cking shoes on.
25. Telling my son he really should have told me fifteen minutes ago if he needs to poop because we were supposed to be in the car and halfway there by now. And also that his f*cking shoes should be on.
26. Asking my son to put on his shoes while he’s sitting there if he’s going to take that long on the toilet.
27. Asking him why he took his socks off before sitting on the toilet.
28. Putting his socks on him myself while he sings “God Bless America” loudly into my ear while still sitting on the toilet.
29. Asking my daughter how the f*ck she lost her f*cking shoes in the thirty seconds I was in the bathroom with her brother.
30. Telling my son that if he doesn’t like those socks he can go upstairs and find different ones.
31. Telling him I can’t get him different socks myself because I now need to find his sister’s shoes and then convince her to put them on.
32. Texting my wife who is wondering why we are not already there and telling her the kids won’t put their f*cking shoes on.
33. Receiving a text from my wife saying, “Why won’t they ever put their f*cking shoes on?”
34. Telling them to stop saying they don’t know how to put their shoes on. They’re almost five years old and they KNOW how to put their shoes on.
35. No, Daddy will not put their shoes on. There is no way in hell Daddy will put their shoes on at this point because it is now a matter of principle. We are already late anyway. They WILL put their own f*cking shoes on.
37. Telling them to stop singing “God Bless America.”
39. Telling them to stop singing “God Bless America.”
40. Glaring. Harder.
41. Waiting. Harder.
42. Looking at the clock.
43. Putting their f*cking shoes on myself.
44. Telling them that, yes, I do remember I said they could have a treat if they put their shoes on, but no, they’re not going to get that treat.
45. Because they didn’t put their f*cking shoes on.
. . .
[By the way, because it needs to be said in this day and age…
I do not actually say the word “f*cking” to my children. I can’t f*cking believe you assumed so. Are you f*cking kidding me?]