May 3, 2014 at 8:04 pm , by Nick Shell
3 years, 5 months.
I promise it was your idea. I’m only going along with it… with acompletely clear conscience.
Since last weekend, you’ve started this thing where you come up to me, punch me in the chest as hard as you can, laugh, then say, “Let’s fight, Daddy.”
And what do I do? I “fight” back.
Well, the difference with my response to you is that I obviously don’t punch you as hard as I can.
I actually am “punching” you back as lightly as I can.
Here we are, a week into it, still hittin’ strong and I’m only seeing positives:
I like to see the confidence you’re gaining in yourself.
I like the way you and I are bonding over it.
I like how you get to test your own physical strength against mine, knowing that less than a second later you’ve got a soft “punch” coming right back at your chest or stomach.
The way I see it, it’s no different than male wolves of the same pack practicing their fighting moves on each other. The way I see it, I am giving you introductory “man lessons.”
Most importantly, you’ve yet to punch any of your friends at school. That’s because I had a little talk with you last weekend before you went back to school on Monday. I explained how the only person you can punch is me.
And you listened!
Like I mentioned, I can’t help but notice the bonding that has occurred since we started our “father-son fight club.” Here recently, you actually have been asking me to sit next to you on the couch. Then, you lay your arm across mine.
That used to be an action you saved for Mommy and never granted me.
So whatever inspired you to start punching me, I’m glad it happened.
Granted, for all I know, I may not be the best example of a parent.
Maybe my stories about us wouldn’t be the kind you’d expect to ever see on a parenting website or something.
But between you and me, I think we have a good thing going on!
It’s our little secret. After all, the first rule about Father-Son Fight Club is that we don’t talk about Father-Son Fight Club.