August 24, 2013 at 11:26 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 9 months.

Dear Jack,

I suppose there’s a good chance that this weekend will be remembered in American pop culture history as when people debated online about how perfector horrible Ben Affleck will be as the new Batman.

As for us, I will remember it as the weekend I felt so proud to buy you a $4 police and ambulance set from T.J. Maxx.

It was the “good little boy in T.J. Maxx” tax that earned you this gift.

Mommy and I needed to buy some appropriate running clothes for our half marathon coming up in April.

Honestly, you behaved very well. I was quite impressed. It was a non-event.

I didn’t have to do any of my recently acquired deep-breathing ad-lib yoga exercises. I didn’t have to find my place of serenity.

You let Mommy and I shop for over an hour, as we spent hardly anything on the few items we needed, in peace.

And just look at your face in the picture as you were getting ready for the car ride home.

I’ve been noticing on the car rides to and from school every day, that it seems you’ve developed a new fascination with ambulances and police cars.

“They’re going to help that crash!” you exclaim every time you hear an emergency vehicle pass nearby.

“Nee-nooh! Nee-nooh!”

I’m actually pretty impressed by your anglicized pronunciation of the sirens.

Once we got home, you forgot all about wanting to watch Mater’s Tall Tales on Netflix, instead choosing to go upstairs with me and try out your new ambulance and police car, with their corresponding action figures.

Though I did go through the trouble to shoot a quick video, what really cracked me up was seeing how you cared for the crash victims, which were in a pink Micro Machine race car from when I was a kid:

Instead of pretending to put the invisible passengers into the back of the ambulance, you decided just to try to put the whole car in.

It didn’t quite fit, but I do appreciate your concept of helping the entire car and all its passengers inside the ambulance.

After all, why not just fix the car at the same hospital that the crash victims are being treated?

And it’s those kinds of memories that make paying the ”good little boy in T.J. Maxx” tax totally worth it.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

August 20, 2013 at 8:08 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 9 months.

Dear Jack,

This picture is proof you are definitely developing and refining your sense of humor.

I passed this snapshot of a family photo along to the Facebook world yesterday and I assume they had the same reaction as I did:

After looking at Mommy and Daddy, and assessing they look like everyday American parents…

Then, they looked at their little boy, and…

What the what?!

You totally knew what you were doing!

We didn’t have to tell you that A) those were goofy toy glasses and B) to therefore make a corresponding goofy face.

The thing is, you did your job a little too well.

You look like a mix between the old man from the Six Flags commercials and Steve Urkel from Family Matters.

A lot of times, you don’t realize you’re being funny.

Like last week on the drive home from school, out of nowhere you proclaimed:

“Some ducks have wings… No, not all of them.”

As well as today:

“Cows eat hay… and pineapples when they can find them.”

But this… this on-the-spot funny face you made for the picture… that’s notaccidentally funny.

That’s you being a rascal.

That’s you saying, “Yeah, I’m understanding more of how this world works than you may realize. Just watch out for next time!”

We’re a nice, normal family… as far as anyone knows.

For now.

But I have a feeling that in the near future, I’ll be seeing more and more cases of you being an official goofball.

That used to be my job.

And now, Son, I’m passing that torch to you.

Of course, that’s not to say I’ve retired. I’ll gladly teach you everything I know.

I’m just saying that I have a feeling you won’t need too much help from me.

You’re a funny kid.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

August 10, 2013 at 2:56 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 8 months.

Dear Jack,

Mommy made some more awesome vegan chocolate cupcakesthis weekend, from that recipe on the blog Oh She Glows. She had told you that you could have one after lunch today.

However, you hadn’t eaten much of your quesadilla before you were asking for your cupcake.

“I’m full. I want my cupcake. I want tohold it,” you told us.

(I like the fact that you were somewhat implying that you just wanted to hold the cupcake, not eat it.)

Mommy and I explained to you that if you were too full to eat the rest of your actual lunch, then you were definitely too full for a treat.

You’re a clever kid. Let me just say that.

“Uggghhhrrrrrr…Rhhggggrrr…”.

We heard you grunting and straining. We were confused as to what you were doing.

“Jack, are you trying to make room for dessert?” Mommy asked.

The sly look on your face gave it away. Yes. That’s exactly what you were trying to do!

Nicely done. It worked.

Mommy and I decided to let you have a very small bite of your cupcake before your noontime nap.

You’ll get the rest of it later.

But honestly, it was as simple as us not wanting you to strain yourself too hard. After all, Mommy had already changed a dirty diaper of yours this morning while we were at the shoe store.

So we weren’t sure that you had much more to… push out.

I’ve heard of saving room for dessert, but never making room for dessert.

Well, at least not until today.

 

Love,

Daddy

July 23, 2013 at 12:31 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 8 months.

Dear Jack,

Here at the end of the 2nd full day of vacation with Mommy’s side of the family here in Sacramento, I’ve officially realized the way it’s going to be:

You’re totally going to get away with running around the whole week wearing nothing but a diaper.

It’s not intentional, of course.

Mommy purposely packed your cutest outfits for this trip. And you do wear them, for about the first two hours of the day.

Then it’s warm enough to play in the little wading pool in the backyard; as you step in the squishy black mud as you search for new toys to throw in your pool.

I laughed to myself yesterday after dinner. There I was, playfully spanking you with an over-sized, plastic, hollow baseball bat, as you attempted to hit me with the accompanying plastic baseball while swinging a plastic golf club at me.

You were in total caveman mode. And I was encouraging it…

Even after our impromptu game, you continued walking around like a gorilla, grunting your way across the background as family members tried to speak to you in English.

It wasn’t the first time I saw you this way. I thought back to Father’s Day when you gave me my unofficial gift…

Now that you have finally caught up on most of your missed sleep due to the early flight out here, the time change, and all the excitement of your cousins making you into a pet version of Animal from the Muppets, I don’t expect you to go full caveman again this week.

Enjoy the “no shirt, no shoes, no pants, no problem” policy while you can, though. We are on vacation, remember.

 

Love,

Daddy