You Don’t Have To Teach A Boy To Make A Mess… Or To Find Trouble!

April 15, 2014 at 10:50 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

Saturday morning as we were getting ready to go to the Vanderbilt scrimmage game, which we actually missed because we were hanging way too long at a new vegan café we discovered thanks to a Groupon… you were being quiet and happy over at the window sill.

Finally, you announced to Mommy and me:

“Look, I’m killing this bug!”

Turns out, the thing was already dead. So I guess what you meant to say was that you were dissecting the bug… by smashing it with a vanilla-scented candle.

(All while wearing your “Just Like Daddy” t-shirt.)

Little black legs were everywhere.

I let you have your fun- after all, you’re a boy. You’re supposed to scrape up your elbows and knees… and make messes.

Granted, I don’t have to teach you to do this. You just naturally know where to find the right environment.

Again, I support it. You need to be a boy.

But it goes without saying that I provided you with the handheld vacuum cleaner and made you suck up all the loose bug body parts.

Then Sunday night while Mommy and I were preparing dinner, again you were being quiet and happy… the perfect combination for you to find trouble.

You had discovered some candy that you were supposed to save until Easter. Yeah, Mommy and I caught you “brown handed,” underneath your chair.

But we were laughing way too hard to be the least bit upset with you.

Besides, whether you had that non-approved candy then or on Easter, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. Delaying the sugar rush only to add it to the jackpot on Easter doesn’t make much sense, I guess.

Being a boy is fun. Discover your world. I will be there to laugh with you. And sometimes, at you.

Can you blame me?

 

Love,

Daddy

My Son Talks To Strangers, Part 1: The Dishwasher Man

March 24, 2014 at 7:43 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

I never in my life thought I’d be so happy about getting a new dishwasher.

One of the assumed roles as the modern dad and father, I have found, is that he takes care of cleaning up all the dishes.

Actually, it would be a foreign concept for me to think that I, as a modern-day American dad, could still be considered a “good husband and father” if I didn’t take care of the dishes everyday he’s…

Or at least some similiar equivalent time-consuming household chore, like laundry or cooking.

At least, that’s my version of reality. I’ve yet to speak to, or even hear of, or watch a stand-up comedian on Netflix (like Tom Papa or Don Friesen), who is a husband and father who is in a “happy household” who doesn’t do the dishes (or an equivalent chore) pretty much on a daily basis.

In all the confusion these days of what roles a modern dad is supposed to assume, “dish duty” is a given for me personally. It’s a way I know I can easily help out our family.

With that being said, our dishwasher has been broken since September.

That means for over 5 months now, I have been washing, and drying, all of our dishes by hand.

And we use a lot of dishes at our house.

Because we have a plant-based diet, Mommy uses the food processor and I often use the juicer, on top of all our normal dishes and utensils.

This is the first time since September that I will have at least 30 more minutes more of “free time” each night that I will be able to use to get more work done… because, we bought a new dishwasher! (During the cheap time of the month, of course.)

My experience as a parent equates free time with work… from other household chores to career enchancing opportunities; but if I’m lucky, catching up with friends.

So yeah, this is a big deal! We now have a working dishwasher!

This is like Christmas.

Saturday when the delivery man came to our house in his big white truck, you were eager to talk to him. Actually, you started with a song:

“I said a hip hop… and you don’t stop.”

This is because Mommy and I finally saw the hilarious Brian Williams/Lester Holt version of Rapper’s Delight:

So you were eager to teach the dishwasher installer guy your new song that you’ve been hearing your parents do all week long.

He was impressed.

You went on to tell him about, and show him, your new 1972 Rachero lowrider Hot Wheel car from Kroger. And as you can see from these pictures, you also had some questions for him as you observed from just a few feet away:

“What’s under there?”

And… “Where are you taking our old dishwasher?”

Talking to strangers isn’t always a bad thing. If I’m there with you, it’s okay.

The thing is, I’m pretty big on talking to strangers, so I’m sure you’re picking up that habit from me.

Love,

Daddy

P.S. Read the entire Talking To Strangers series:

 Part 1: The Dishwasher Man

Part 2: The Talking Dog

Part 3: The Kohl’s Incident

 

Mommy, I Don’t Taste Chocolate In My Ravioli…

March 4, 2014 at 8:37 pm , by 

3 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

Yesterday Mommy prepared some vegan ravioli for you for dinner.

It was a bit of an experiment, since you usually get cheese in your ravioli. But this time, it was vegetables and garlic instead- no cheese.

Mommy and I were both curious to see how you would react to veggie version…

You have this habit, like most 3 year-olds, I assume, of trying to negotiate how little “real food” you have to eat, so that you can end your meal with some kind of treat.

As Mommy placed the ravioli on your plate, she jokingly mentioned that there was chocolate inside the ravioli.

It was amazing how we didn’t have to keep prompting to eat your dinner. For 20 minutes, you ate your ravioli with no complaints.

Then finally, you politely observed, “Mommy, I don’t taste chocolate in my ravioli…”.

Mommy and I immediately burst out in laughter. We realized at that moment, you didn’t understand Mommy was joking when she mentioned that there was chocolate in them…

You were so eager to eat chocolate for dinner, that you kept eating the veggie raviolis in hopes that you would discover some hidden chunks of chocolate to make it worth your while.

Even funnier is that you would willingly eat vegetables mixed with chocolate, if it meant you got to eat chocolate. As for me, at least, I would want them separate.

Not you. For you, chocolate is chocolate.

While the story doesn’t end with you getting chocolate chunks in your ravioli, it does end with you getting chocolate almond milk, as well as, some vegan gummy bears.

You were happy and so were your parents.

Plus, Mommy and I were happy because we got you to eat veggie-stuffed ravioli without any complaints.

If only this plan were repeatable…

 

Love,

Daddy

My Son’s Valentine To Himself: A Dog Ticket

It’s Okay To Wear Your Pajamas To Walmart

February 10, 2014 at 9:15 pm , by 

3 months, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

Something I will take pride in is teaching you how to dress appropriately. For example, when you want to impress (or intimidate) someone, wear a necktie.

My (secret) goal is to always “outdress” every other man in the room; particularly in the office. I blame it on the Italian in me.

However, there are certain times in life where that conceptcompletely doesn’t matter at all. The most obvious exception is when you go to Walmart.

Son, you can pretty much wear whatever you want when we go there. I have found the culture there to be extremely accepting.

And that’s exactly what happened last weekend. As Mommy and I are preparing to buy a house later this year, we are prepping our current townhouse to rent. We needed to check out the selection on toilet seat covers- and on a rainy Saturday night, Walmart was the perfect place.

Oh, and of course, we let you have a 98 cent Hot Wheels car and an 88 cent container of bright blue Play-Doh.

With it being all rainy day, you had been in your PJs for most of it. So we figured, why make you change?

After all, considering there is a website called People Of Walmart, which functions as a collection of “the best of the worst dressed” who are secretly photographed by other customers, I figured no one would give you a second look if we carried you around in your doggie pajamas.

I was right. You fit right in.

No need to wear a necktie to Walmart, in other words. But even if you did, I still don’t think you’d get a second look from anyone.

Everyone is accepted just as they are at Walmart. There’s nothing pretentious about it.

Sometimes, that’s actually pretty refreshing.

 

Love, Daddy