This Post Is An Hour Late
I am officially over tired. Little Jack wants to know if that means I am done being tired. I told him that I was done being tired more than 30 years ago. Grandma verified for him that I used to wear out the other children. And then she told him that I had so much energy she was afraid to have more kids.
That last comment was for my benefit. Just before Little Jack was born some friends of my parents had a conversation with me. I remember it well.
“Jack, you know all of those stories about how challenging you were as a child. They are all true. I was there. I saw you. You were a beautiful little boy but we all wondered if your parents would kill you.”
And then she paused and said “in a short time we are going to see if karma really exists because the universe owes you one.”
I offered my thanks for the warm wishes. She laughed and reminded me that in spite of being a challenge I was quite cute.
I was a handful. I know it. I threw eggs, climbed on the stove, stuffed raisins up my sister’s nose, wandered off in stores and that is not all. I also went through a phase where I hit and bit other children.
A decent chunk of time has passed since those heady almost-a-father-for-real days. In that time I have learned more than I can possibly share. I have learned that while my children share many of my traits they have not gotten all of them. My son doesn’t throw eggs or climb on the stove. He did try and runway in a mall which led to our encounter with Anna Nicole Smith. I am too tired to try and find the post in which I blogged about it.
He hasn’t stuffed raisins in his sister’s nose or anything for that matter. However he did manage to stick gum in her hair. When he was three he threatened a man in the supermarket. He didn’t like what the man was doing so he told him to get out or “may daddy is going to break your life.” Let me tell you, comments like that warm your soul.
The other day he told me that he can’t see any reason for girls to be in school with him because all they do is chase the boys and try to kiss them. I told them that one day he’ll like that. He grimaced and said that he is never going to get married. So then I asked him if he wants to be a father like me.
He said yes. I told him that if he did he would have to spend some time with a girl. So then he asked me if I could put the baby inside the girl for him. We have had the sex talk on a couple of occasions, but at six he doesn’t quite get it.
In response to his question I told him that it would be better if he did it himself. And then my little boy made me smile. He agreed that if he was going to become a father he would put the baby inside himself. Here is the kicker. A half a second later he looks at me and asks if he is going to need to practice putting the baby in.
I had to restrain myself from saying that the more practice he got the better he would become at it. Instead I told him that he doesn’t need to worry about for a long time.
Daylight savings time is kicking my ass. I am not just tired, but good and tired whatever the hell that means.