April 26, 2013 at 7:43 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

You are in the stage now where you’re piecing together catch phrases you hear Mommy and I say and incorporating them into your observations conversation.

Yesterday as I drove you home from school, I guess there was a gnat or something flying around you. This is what I heard:

“No way, bug! Get in the cheese!… You’re in trouble. No ma’am! Just chill out. Go find a home.”

From there, your conversation with the bug went from 2nd person perspective to 3rd person narration:

“The bug needs to find his parents. They hold him. They take care of him. That’s weird.”

I’m still a little confused about the cheese part. Do you want bugs to live inside of cheese wedges? Is that where they usually call their home?

The part I understand most from your conversation with/about the bug is this: The bug has a home where he belongs; where he has a Daddy and Mommy who love him.

Thanks, Son. That’s sweet of you to assume the bug’s parents love him the way Mommy and I love you.

I love your backseat radio show. That’s how I’m starting to think of it now.

In particular, I thought your rendition of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” was pretty creative:

“Twinkle, twinkle, purple monster truck…”.

As you would say, “That’s weird.”

Love,

Daddy

April 11, 2013 at 7:28 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

I will admit I don’t always understand your logic.

Your newest tradition is to wave goodbye to Mommy as she pulls out of the driveway each morning. I gather that it is a time and tradition that helps you share a connection with her on a daily basis.

But this morning… as Mommy stood in the doorway, smiling at you, telling you to have a good day, telling you that she loves you, telling you that she will miss you, you just stared at her and said nothing.

The moment she walked out to her car, you got excited. You actually got giddy, even.

By the time she started backing out of the driveway, you were jumping with excitement, because finally, the moment had come when you would be able to… wave goodbye to her.

To spell out the irony here. you basically wanted Mommy to hurry up and leave so you could wave goodbye to her.

Your way of thinking is just different than mine, or Mommy’s, sometimes.

Like last night after I put you to bed and you were already overly tired to begin with, you sang at the top of your lungs for the next 15 minutes until I finally went back into your bedroom to remind you that it was time for fall asleep, to which you simply replied, “Okay,” then fell asleep a minute later.

I thought your song choice was pretty interesting, it was a medley of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep,” and the “Alphabet Song,” all of which share the exact same tune.

As for me, when I am completely exhausted, like the way I am right now as I write this, the last thing I would feel like doing is singing songs at the top of my lungs.

Logic has yet to become a priority in your life. Enjoy that while you can, kid.

Love,

Daddy

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April 9, 2013 at 9:29 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

Sunday afternoon as we were pulling out of the Kroger parking lot from filling up Mommy’s car with gas, you shouted:

“Red Jeep! I want to see it!Bow! Red Jeep! Bow!My red Jeep!”

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the red Jeep Wrangler you were referring to, but we weren’t going to turn the car around just so you could take a peek at a red Jeep, which you are guaranteed to see at least 5 of on the drive to daycare everyday.

(Nashville is overly saturated with Jeep Wranglers; not that that’s a bad thing!)

With a very confused look on my face, I asked Mommy, “Wait, what is he saying? Bow? Like it rhymes with pow or how, except it’s bow?”

She explained, “Yeah, that’s his new word he yells out when he doesn’t get what we wants.”

Turns out, you’ve been using “bow!” on a daily basis, as I later learned from Mommy. You even have a hand gesture to accompany your exclamatory word: You pretend to throw a ball at the person you saying it to.

Basically, it’s a lot like like that scene on the movie Step Brothers where Rob Riggle just keeps shouting out “pow!” and no one really understands why or even what word he’s actually saying.

You’ve learned you can’t get away with yelling “no!” to us, so you’ve crafted a new defiant word that makes it difficult for Mommy and me to take you too seriously.

I’m actually quite impressed by your creativity. For now, “bow” will remain a parent-approved curse word for you to use.

Personally, I enjoy watching and hearing you say it because it’s so hilarious to see you so passionately shout out a word that is ultimately meaningless, though it does a good job of helping you express how you feel.

Love,

Daddy

March 29, 2013 at 11:31 pm , by Nick Shell

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