Storytelling

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Why Our Family Is Giving Up The Vegetarian Lifestyle

April 1, 2013 at 12:10 am , by 

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

I figure today is just as good as any for us to make a major change in our lives. Tonight, you will dine on meat for the first time!

As for Mommy and me, this will be the first time we’ve had a non-vegetarian meal in nearly a year and a half. In the least, this breaks my personal nearly-monthly long vegan lifestyle.

Not only have your parents kept you from meat, but we’ve also deprived you of soda, fruit juice, most candy, artificial colors, and fast food.

But that’s not fair to you and I realize that now.

What a hypocrite I am to say you can’t have the same foods I had growing up. The fact that some of your favorite toys are the Stomper monster trucks I got from McDonald’s Happy Meals from 1985 really started making me think.

To say that you can never know the joy and splendor of opening a hot steamy bag or box containing not only great tasting food, but also a cool toy, that’s just really not fair.

So today when I pick you up from daycare, I’m taking you straight to the drive-thru and buying you a chicken nugget kids meal.

I just sort of feel embarrassed by this whole hippy stage in my life. (I even endorsed Ron Paul in the 2012 Presidential election! Can we say overboard?)

Looking back, I made way too big of a deal about the pink slime controversy last year. I need to just stop asking where our food comes from and let you be normal.

You’re a kid, for goodness sake! Be a kid!

I realize that a recent University of Oxford study shows that vegetarians live longer, have a lower risk for heart disease, are less likely to develop diabetes, and have a lower height-weight ratio than meat eaters.

Okay, so maybe our family would live longer… but would we have as much fun?

Time to find out!

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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The Toddler Food Pyramid: Boogers Not Included

March 29, 2013 at 11:31 pm , by 

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

You’re like me: You often process your thoughts out loud, sometimes not realizing that other people are listening and taking your curious trains of thought more seriously than you are.

Today as I drove you home from school and we listened to John Lennon sing “goo goo g’joob,” you interrupted “I Am The Walrus” with this deep philosophical creed:

“I not eat boogers? I eat food?”

Somehow I didn’t laugh, and instead, instantly responded in a tone that proved your questions to be legitimate.

“That’s right, son. You eat food, not boogers.”

I realize that your version of the food pyramid is almost exclusively built on mac and cheese, beans and rice, bananas, pureed veggies, and raisins. But even at the very top of that pyramid, there is no space available for boogers, with a caption reading, “Use sparingly.”

So maybe you saw some friends at school picking their nose, then eating their findings. Then you thought it was weird but maybe somehow you thought it might be acceptable, so you figured you should ask Daddy.

Or maybe, with all the talk of finding Easter eggs this weekend, and your confusion on whether or not chickens eat the eggs they lay, which leads to more confusion on whether cows drink the milk they so willingly and graciously share with the human population instead of their own young, I could see how you might think that you also could produce your own food source from your body.

Not the case.

Son, I’m glad we had our talk in the car today. I always want you to feel like you can approach me with important questions like this.

While there may be other families out there who disagree with our lifestyle choices, our family is firm in our beliefs:

We’re not a booger eating family.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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I’ll Love You Long After You’re Gone

March 28, 2013 at 12:06 am , by 

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

I am 29 and a half years older than you. That means that, ultimately, I won’t always be here.

Decades from now, there will come a day when I pass on before you.

But it doesn’t mean I will be thinking about you, adoring you, or loving you any less.

I know that’s a strange thought, to still be consumed by someone even after they are separated from you by life itself. But it’s true.

Phillip Phillips has this new song out called “Gone, Gone, Gone,” which features that very concept:

“I’ll love you long after you’re gone.”

This isn’t a simple love song about not getting over someone after a break-up. It’s much more complicated and irrational than that.

It’s about deeply caring for someone regardless of time and space. I love this song. I can’t help but think of you and Mommy when I hear it.

No matter what age you are, I want it always to be clear to you how I feel about you. I want you to know and remember me as the man who loved you most in this life.

I am also the man who occasionally shows up in the background of the pictures I take of you. I witness your life, as a narrator, as a stage hand, and as a mentor.

It’s so important to me that we have healthy, open communication in our relationship. I don’t want to be a man of mystery, like Don Draper.

I want you to know me as a strong, yet sensitive, man who teaches you to be the same.

Though you will barely remember anything from being 2 years old, I hope the memories I make with you now insulate the nostalgic part of your brain with warm fuzzies.

Like a drum, baby, don’t stop beating. Like a drum my heart never stops beating… for you, for you.

Love,

Daddy

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Nashville Dad Pleads Guilty To Roughhousing And Horseplay

March 26, 2013 at 12:53 pm , by 

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

There are several token father-son images that I bet most people are familiar with. One that comes to my mind is of a dad throwing his child high into the air and catching them, as the giggling child delights in the thrill.

Can you believe that’s something I’ve never done to you? I need to consider that.

But there is another stock image of fatherhood thatis a reality for the two of us: you riding my back like I’m your horsie.

I authentically enjoy it. I actually like neighing. I like the uncertainty of not knowing whether you are going to be able to hold on tightly enough to hang on or not.

Sometimes you fall off onto the carpet, then laugh because you didn’t get hurt. I like being your unpredictable beast.

Something else potentially dangerous I do with you is to let you sit in an empty diaper box and pretend you’re driving a Jeep Wrangler up the stairs.

Of course, I’m holding the box myself and pushing you the whole way up.

You scream with excitement once we get to the top, knowing that I’m about to slowly guide you back downstairs on a bumpy ride while acting like I’ve lost control of you and the box. (It looks even more dangerous than it sounds; which is why I’m not showing you a picture of that now.)

But before I do that, I push your “Jeep” down the dark hallway, into your even darker bedroom, making lion noises. You act like there’s a lion in your bedroom as I drive you next to your play tent. At that point, I grab the giant bolster pillow inside of it and pretend you’re being eaten by the lion… all the dark!

This is what you crave from me. Quality time with Daddy typically means I put you in a position where you’re not necessarily sure whether you should legitimately be scared as we play together.

When Mommy’s out buying groceries on Saturday mornings and you and I are playing together in the living room, I pretend to be a giant hissing possum as I slowly creep up on you across the floor. Then you claim safe haven on the couch.

You squeal with joy; yet once I get right up to you, this is what say:

“Daddy, you hold me?”

Then I instantly transform back into your Daddy, from a giant hissing possum.

You and I play scary and rough together. If you’re riding a horse with me, then I am the horse.

If you’re riding a horse with Mommy, it means she’s safely guiding you on a trained horse walking in circles.

You get the best of both worlds.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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The Subtle Capitalist Message Of Easter Egg Hunts

March 24, 2013 at 2:29 pm , by 

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

Yesterday Mommy and I took you to your first Easter egg hunt of the year. You insisted on wearing a hat you outgrew several months ago: We let you win that battle.

During the drive there, I prepped you:

“Listen son, when the egg hunt begins, you need to pick up as many eggs as you can and drop them in your basket. Don’t stop to take the time to open the eggs to see what’s inside- there will be time for that later. Just find an area where no other kids are looking and search there for the eggs.”

The whistle blew and you were confused at first by the hysteria; you had the extra challenge of competing with 3 year-olds because we couldn’t find the 2 year-olds’ section.

But then, it was if you immediately remembered what I told you.

I saw this clever smile appear on your face… then you ran to a section in the grass where no one else considered going.

You meant business. Sure, it was fun for you, but you knew that when it was all over, each one of those eggs symbolized a chocolate treat which we normally wouldn’t let you eat.

After all the eggs were found, I couldn’t help but privately compare the number of eggs you had in your basket to the other kids’ baskets.

Son, you smoked ‘em. You did exactly as I instructed you in the car ride there.

You seized the opportunity, capitalizing in the free market of the egg hunt.

Granted, Mommy and I aren’t letting you keep all the candy you found. We sorted through what we would let you keep and we’re actually giving 75% of it away to your friends at daycare.

As your Libertarian dad, I am proud of you for learning a real-life lesson yesterday; in regards to being a responsible and proactive participant in the free market.

You worked hard and reaped the fruits of labor, but you’re also giving back to the community of toddlers who weren’t as fortunate to find as many eggs as you did.

 

Love,

Daddy