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That Moment You See an Old Photo and Remember the More Fun (Yet Less Responsible) Version of Yourself…

Earlier this week I received a Facebook notification that someone had shared a photo of me. I immediately found this odd, since I’m typically not in photos with other people unless it’s with my wife or kids, and it was my camera being used.

Then I looked and saw it:
“A little throwback for your Monday blues…”

Jeffrey A. Smith had shared a photo he had taken of me back in August 2005, from over 11 years ago, for my “moving to Nashville” photo shoot. I was 24 years old at the time. (See left.)

I immediately responded to his comment: “I don’t remember this guy! After nearly 9 years of marriage and raising 2 kids, I am far from the confused guy wandering out of the woods, ha ha!”

There’s something naturally funny about seeing an old photo of yourself, especially when it’s shared in real time like this.

To me, what is so humorous is not the long hair, the backpacker style pullover I bought while I was living in Thailand, or the really baggy jeans.

It’s not even the (angry?) look on my face which possibly seems to indicate I’m preparing to fight for my life in a Hunger Games scenario.

Instead, it’s the obvious reminder that who I was back in 2005 at age 24 is not who I am now in 2017, just weeks away from my 36th birthday.

I have been completely rewired since the day this picture was taken.

Sure, I do have vague memories of that guy in the picture. But that’s not me. I think of him as a guy I used to know back in the 2000s.

I don’t know, maybe I was more of a fun guy back then:

No real responsibilities. No real job. No family to support. Just dreams to pursue.

And now, nearly a dozen years later, I simply can’t relate to that guy in these pictures from that day in August 2005.

I am so grateful for how far I have evolved from that guy, actually. But if it weren’t for that guy, I could have never become who I am today. He had what it took to get me to where I needed to be.

It’s strange to think that people who haven’t been around me since high school, or college, or from when I first moved to Nashville, they knew that guy… not this guy.

I don’t know for sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

But I have to assume that most of us have a similar story. I have a feeling most people can understand how an old photo brings back memories of a former version of ourselves that immediately causes us to laugh- and to be grateful that we have been blessed with enough years to move beyond who we used to be, so that we could become who we are today.

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Dear Jack: The Cowboy T-Rex, Because… ‘Merica

6 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

Like me, you may never really dedicate yourself to team sports. Sure, you may play soccer a year here and there, but really I predict your extracurricular activities will be in the field of art; as was the case for me.

I come home from work each day to see such masterpieces, which are just casual drawings from school. But they are full of thought, detail, and character.

This painting of a sheep impressed Mommy and me so much we have decided to keep it aside so that you can enter it into the Williamson County Fair.

And this amazing painting of a fish is proudly hanging on our fridge.

You particularly delight in drawing dinosaurs. It’s so impressive the way you can just draw these different types just from memory, in addition to being able to immediately tell me the correct names of each one.

But I must say, my favorite recent drawing of yours features two personified dinosaurs. On that fateful Saturday morning at the kitchen table, you asked me, “Daddy, which kind of hat should this T-Rex wear?”

I effortlessly suggested a cowboy hat, which you immediately agreed to.

You then decided that the country T-Rex should be wearing overalls and holding an American flag. I love how you automatically knew how to make that connection from just a cowboy hat.

Next came another T-Rex. In contrast, you drew him wearing a pair of shorts, a baseball cap and a waving a Digimon flag.

There are two ways of interpreting this piece of art.

Either the two dinosaurs are about to engage in a duel, using their flags as symbolic weapons…

Or, they have decided to become friends, despite their cultural differences. And that likely is the case, as you created speech bubbles for each of them, so they could say “hello” to each other.

You finished off the drawing by turning those speech bubbles into smaller versions of the dinosaurs, which wore hats just like the actual dinosaurs wore.

Yeah, you’re going to be an artist.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

10 months.

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

Dear Holly,

To say you adore your brother, that would simply be an understatement. He is your guiding light for everything cool, adventurous, and new. Even though his handling of you isn’t as gentle as it should be, you celebrate him carrying you around the living room, as you don’t seem to mind being smashed up against his chest. You just look up at him and smile the whole time.

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

These days you’re very big into attempt to stand up. You can stand up on your own for about a second or two before you softly collapse.

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother h2

This confidence is leading to you climbing the stairs. I’ve supervised you getting about a third of the way up before realizing how high up you were and needing me to help you down.

You’re constantly on the lookout for something to pull up on or climb over.

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Fortunately, you and your brother are in this perfect place where the two of you somewhat accidentally entertain each other.

I’ve noticed that Mommy and I are now often able to get the dishes finished after dinner, simply because Jack acts crazy and you serve as his perfect audience member. I myself couldn’t get away with playing with you at that point in the night, when you are so tired.

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But thanks to Jack’s antics, you catch a second wind, which buys Mommy and me an extra 30 minutes to clean up, so we don’t have to worry about it after we put you and your brother to bed.

However, there are other times like on the weekend, when Jack just wants to play a game on the Kindle and be left alone. You don’t seem to realize that he’s not actually returning the attention.

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Either way, it’s a relationship that works; whether the two of you realize what you’re doing or not.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Holly: Learning to Get into Trouble, Thanks in Part to Your Brother

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Dear Jack: The Ever-Hilarious and Glorious Choco Chimps

6 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack: The Ever-Hilarious and Glorious Choco Chimps

Dear Jack,

As a family, we rarely go grocery shopping together. Typically, Mommy goes to Kroger while I stay home with you and your sister Holly. But last Sunday after church, it was just easier to get the shopping out of the way, so we decided to turn it into a family affair.

At one point, I had turned the corner to pick up a few Kombucha drinks. When I came back, I heard Mommy saying to you, “You’ll have to ask Daddy when he gets back…”

You looked up and saw me. Holding the brown box of chocolate corn puffs, which featured a joyous chimpanzee on the cover, you asked me with a cautious yet hopeful tone:

“Daddy, can I have Choco Chimps?”

Seriously, how could I say no? A 6 year-old boy with big blue eyes had just asked me such a ridiculous sounding question, with such a straight face.

(Just add the phrase Choco Chimps to anything you say and I’m probably going to laugh.)

The only problem was, I couldn’t stop laughing. For the rest of the time I was in the store, I kept finding myself in fits of literally LOL-ing about the absurd thought of a chimpanzee who authentically loved chocolate cereal so much that it had to be named after him.

And then the thought that my own sweet son wanted to eat that chimpanzee’s famous cereal…

Though I’m sure you wanted to get aggravated with me for cracking up over the concept of Choco Chimps, you let it go since I obviously said yes.

This morning before you started getting ready for school, you asked, “Daddy, will you pour me some Choco Chimps?”

Amazingly, I didn’t laugh, but instead simply made you aware: “Yes, but just know, this is all that’s left in the box.”

You clearly loved Choco Chimps this week as, indicated by the empty box I placed in recycling.

As you enjoyed the last of your enchanted cereal, I was packing everything in the car. When I returned a few minutes later, the bathroom door was shut, as I heard you whispering to your sister. I opened to the door to see you holding your her; both of your seemingly surprised I found you so quickly.

Holly clearly enjoyed the impromptu game of hide-and-seek with you.

It was time to brush your teeth, so I sat your sister down near our feet; as she typically likes to crawl through them like a cat. However, she quietly (and suspiciously) just sat there on the carpet, right outside the open bathroom door.

After I finished brushing your teeth and had sent you over to the front door to put on your socks, I kneeled down to Holly, to find out why she was being atypically non-curious.

I saw that her fist was closed, as she tried not to make it obvious she had a glorious treasure inside. Then with my thumb, I pried openher fingers, to discover…

A Choco Chimp!

Looks like little sister managed to convey the message, even without words:

“Brother, can I have a Choco Chimp?”

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: The “What 3 Sounds Can You Make?” Misunderstanding

6 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack: The “What 3 Sounds Can You Make?” Misunderstanding

Dear Jack,

Holly and I were quiet, just minding our own business. You presented Mommy with what appeared to be an engaging, impromptu game, when she heard you ask the question, “Mommy, what three sounds can you make?”

She answered nearly immediately: “I can make a lot of sounds.”

You insisted, “But Mommy, what three sounds can you make?”

Slightly confused, she answered you.

“Ding… dong… ppfffttt.”

You were not pleased nor impressed with her answer. So you repeated the question, “No, Mommy! What three sounds can you make?!”

She followed up with three more noises that didn’t quench your thirst for knowledge either:

“Beep… bop… boing.”

You were getting noticeably upset at this point; frustrated that Mommy was apparently not making the sounds you wanted to hear.

Was it some kind of impossible guessing game? How could Mommy possibly know which three sounds were the right answer?

Or maybe there was some kind of inside joke that Holly nor I were aware of? Maybe Mommy makes three sounds that are funny, and you wanted to hear them again, because no one else was as good at making those sounds?

Things were starting to get tense. So at that point, I asked you to stop playing the game, as I just wanted peace.

“Mommy, U makes three sounds, I can’t remember what they are!”

Then she and I finally realized what you were getting at.

“Oh! You’re asking me which three sounds the letter U can make?” she responded.

What we thought was a playful guessing game was instead you practicing your phonics, outside of school… by choice!

Mommy was able to tell you the three different sounds the letter U makes; like in the words put, truck, and prune.

At last, you were relieved.

You were just a 6 year-old boy trying to privately sort out how the confusing English language works, and your parents weren’t much help.

So next time you appear to engage us in a guessing game, I’ll assume it has something to do with phonics.

Love,

Daddy