Normally, things that happen in regard to the children don't necessarily strike me as blog-worthy, meaning I usually don't feel the need to take a break and write about it immediately. However, there is always an exception to the rule.
Just a couple of minutes ago, I was standing in the hall, when I see a red blur streaking towards me. I looked down in time to see Tyler wind up and punch me in the man parts (also see: cojones, package, region, junk or area) as hard as he can! Tyler is not a hitter, so I was doubly surprised.
I sent him straight to timeout and tried not to let Nicole see me in pain, because, well, actually I have no good reason for that. After a couple minutes I sat down with Tyler to discuss the incident. I knelt down next to him at the time out chair and asked him why he hit me. Now, just so you know, Tyler is very big on saying, "I don't know." whenever you ask him anything. What he's doing, why he did something, what he drew, what he wants to eat, basically any question you could ever ask the boy, his favorite response is, "I don't know." So I have threatened him with licking his whole face every time he says, "I don't know" or if he says "I can't" (another one of his favorite responses). It actually is pretty funny to execute this strategy, as he just looks mortified and disgusted after being licked by yours truly. FYI, I'd be grossed out too if I was licked by me, but that's a whole other set of issues, for another day/blog post. Anyhow, this strategy seems to work, because now he'll usually respond by saying, " I don....." (pauses to think of an answer) and then comes up with one he thinks will satisfy me enough to avoid a licking. So I ask him why he hit me, and he starts by nearly saying 'I don't know', thinks better of it, looks at me with his puppy dog eyes, and says in this very apologetic voice, "I just wanted to see you Daddy."
So this is just great. I am starting to think that I am the worst Dad in the whole world. A few months ago, I was going to play my basketball game, and Tyler sees me leaving in my basketball clothes and says, "Oh, you're going to your basketball game Daddy? I wish you could stay here with me." Needless to say, he has this way of making me feel about the size of something really, really, infinitesimally small. In my defense, today he and I have watched a basketball game, took a nap together on the couch, made and ate ice cream together, played football for half an hour and played 'walk on daddy', which involves me laying on my stomach and Tyler practicing his chiropractic skills via doing knee drops and cannonballs on my back. So I really don't think he has felt too neglected today.
So anyway, I explained why we don't hit, blah blah blah, and if he ever hits his mother then the world would end, etc. and then had him take a picture of me so we could write about it on the blog. So that's what we did. And now Tyler would like to type something. So without further ado, here is Tyler's virgin run at blogging:
hi. my namme is tyler davis, i like to hit my dad in the balls