Warms My Heart. ... Kind Of

I'm second fiddle.  I get that.  I'm ok with that.  I'm kind of like the super pumped back-up quarterback to the perennial all star who knows if he ever took the field he'd be ripped limb from limb so he'll just keep holding the clip board and collecting the super bowl rings while hi-fiving el numero uno as he trots off the field.  It's a good gig.  But occasionally I want to be wanted.  I want to be needed.  I long to be missed.  When Gina used to go to teach (and will again in a few short months) it was "no Momma yoga" and "me miss Momma". ... but I'm at work for 9 hours a day. ... not a whole lot of "me miss Daddy" or "no Daddy coordinate facilities and authorize purchase orders for high end office equipment".  So this morning I was a little tickled when Gina called me to relay that Genevieve had woken up calling for my presence. ... that is until the end of the story.  So here's the scoop: early this morning Gina heard Genevieve softly calling "Daddy. ... Daaadddyy" over the monitor.  She went in to find both girls awake and Genevieve quickly pipes up "Where's Daddy?"  "He's at work honey, he'll be back later today."  "Where Daddy go?"  "Work, honey.  Only a few more days and then you can have him home all weekend, ok?"  "OK".  She then gets them out of bed and headed towards our bathroom for the morning "business" before changing in to big girl panties.  Once in our room Genvieve again asks "Where's Daddy?"  Gina's starting to get a little perturbed, "Work, honey.  Just like yesterday.  He'll be back later today after your nap."  "Daddy nite-nite?"  "No, Daddy's not sleeping. ... go ahead and check the bed for yourself."  At this point Genevieve walks past Gina for the first time to inspect our bed, and Gina puts it all together.  Protruding from Genevieve's back side is a "tail" that clearly indicates someone has mistakenly trusted a fart and now has to deal with the fall out.  Apparently she wanted to make sure Daddy was the one who made the discovery as I've built a reputation as being a softy when it comes to such matters - and let's face it; I am.  Gina's not so understanding.  So it turns out that my sweet little girl didn't so much miss my presence as she just needed her Dad to handle shit for her.  I guess what that means is while I think of myself as the back up quarterback, ready to go in at any moment. ... I'm actually just the towel boy. ... with grand illusions of stardom.