I imagine that throughout your childhood, you will encounter various phases, which I look forward to the privilege of witnessing.
This one you’re in now, though… well, it’s pretty weird. In fact, I figure I might as well document it now before it’s gone.
You love pretending to be a lizard; especially when you see people you know.
My friend Jason was flying in from Houston and we were texting about seeing each other over the weekend.
I texted him: “Jack will like it if you make a lizard face when you see him- that’s his new thing these days.”
He replied: “I’m going to need a sample pic so I know what to do.”
I answered him: “Basically just pretend you’re slowly licking peanut butter off your upper lip.”
You were impressed.
The thing is, I’m not sure where this lizard phase of yours is coming from.
I wanted to tag it on your best friend Sophie, but I could just as easily see you being the one to introduce “lizardry” to her.
Here’s a clip of you two pretending to be lizards in the wagon:
What’s really interesting is, for a few months now, you’ve owned a headless dragon t-shirt that you’ve never worn until this week. Once I saw you in it for the first time, it was almost prophetic.
After all, a little boy who is now greeting people with his lizard impression should definitely be wearing a t-shirt that makes it look like his head belongs to the body of a dragon… which is sort of like a lizard.
In fact, you like this shirt so much now, that after you wore it to school on Monday, then slept in it that night, you asked to wear it again both Tuesday and Wednesday.
I’m assuming all kids go through an “I’m a lizard” phrase, right?
Three months ago, I told about how you willingly put yourself in time-out as punishment for accidentally hitting my leg while I was getting you dressed one morning… then you tried to escape from being in time-out!
Well, Mommy told me how this week you’ve been pulling a similar, yet almost opposite stunt.
You announce to Mommy, “I want to be in trouble.”
Of course, that means you can’t watch any of your shows on Netflix or any monster truck clips on the laptop.
It would be ironic if it weren’t for the fact that it’s your attempt at avoiding getting dressed.
There’s definitely some circular reasoning in this story I’m trying to sort out:
You don’t want to get dressed, so you want to be in trouble to be put in time-out, which then makes it more difficult to get dressed since you’re supposed to sit alone in the corner.
However, you still have to get dressed anyway, but if you don’t listen to Mommy as she’s trying to help you get dressed, there’s a good chance you’ll end up in time-out.
Ultimately, two things are inevitable: Getting dressed and time-out.
Of course, there’s the both reasonable and practical option:
Let Mommy get you dressed without a fight, then she’ll let you watch Netflix or monster trucks on the computer.
I really look forward to the day that getting you dressed is no longer a struggle.
But then, you might not provide me with funny stories of the illogical situations you get yourself into.
With today being a special day, Father’s Day to be exact, Mommy decided to make our family some of her magical vegan cupcakes.
You got lucky. She let you lick the cake batter from the mixing bowl.
To keep the chocolate “mud” from getting all over your clothes, Mommy and I decided it was best that we strip you down to just your diaper.
Immediately afterwards, Mommy went upstairs to fold the laundry.
That meant it was just you and me.
That’s when things got weird…
You placed the mixing bowl in the middle of the kitchen floor, then begin circling it while holding your spoon to your forehead. (Technically dangerous, though things often are when you’re on my watch.)
It didn’t help that you were by that point “toddler drunk” from the mix of the sugar and the missed nap.
I had a feeling I needed to capture this on video. I couldn’t have known what was about to happen during those 38 seconds I recorded you.
So, actually, here ya go…
Watch the clip of what happened:
That’s right. In the middle of your ancient tribal dance, you gave me the gift that keeps on giving… as you put it, “It was a gas!”
Thank you for my coffee cup. Thank you for my new swim trucks and t-shirt. Thank you for the cool dinosaur Father’s Day card you picked out especially for me.
And while I’m at it, I guess I might as well thank you for the… hilarious memory, too!
For example, in theory, because of the fact I “like” Non-GMO Project, Occupy Monsanto, Julie Borowski, Ron Paul, Parents Magazine, and Bruce Springsteen on Facebook, I am evidently making it somewhat obvious that I’m a a socially liberal, fiscally conservative, vegan dad who has accidentally caused his 2 and a half year-old son to now get upset in his car seat if he doesn’t get to listen to Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits album on the way to school in the morning.
To me, a Father’s Day card is just as indirectly telling of what kind of dad one is perceived to be, at least in that moment, that year by their child.
My favorite song on Country music radio right now is one about a man whose brother was killed in the war and who drives around his brother’s pick-up truck as a form of therapy.
You’ve heard Mommy and I sing “I Drive Your Truck” by Lee Brice enough times that you started singing it too.
However, I feel that your version of the song misses the sentimental and emotional aspect that songwriters Jessi Alexander, Connie Harrington, and Jimmy Yeary intended.
Your version is more of a lighthearted comedy:
“I drive you truck… it was accident!”
Whether you unintentionally rewrote the lyrics on the spot or whether you honestly thought those were the words, I can’t not laugh when you sing it.
The funniest part about it is how you assume you did something wrong, by mistake.
I picture you beboppin’ around a parking lot, stepping in to someone else’s truck, and driving to the other side of town before realizing… you have the wrong truck! And I picture all of this happening with you being your current age and height.
As your vocabulary is expanding, you are learning new words to fill in the blanks when you don’t know what the right words are. This story is a great example of that.
One phase you’ve recently picked up is, “Are you kidding me?”
You haven’t quite got the expression of it down, though. When you say it, it’s more monotone, but then you laugh at yourself for saying something you know will make Mommy and me laugh, even if you don’t know why we think it’s funny.
I see how you are figuring out in your head how to be a comedian. Strangely, one of your first cases involves a very good, but not funny, Country song.