Posts Tagged ‘ horseplay ’

Nashville Dad Pleads Guilty To Roughhousing And Horseplay

Tuesday, March 26th, 2013

2 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

There are several token father-son images that I bet most people are familiar with. One that comes to my mind is of a dad throwing his child high into the air and catching them, as the giggling child delights in the thrill.

Can you believe that’s something I’ve never done to you? I need to consider that.

But there is another stock image of fatherhood that is a reality for the two of us: you riding my back like I’m your horsie.

I authentically enjoy it. I actually like neighing. I like the uncertainty of not knowing whether you are going to be able to hold on tightly enough to hang on or not.

Sometimes you fall off onto the carpet, then laugh because you didn’t get hurt. I like being your unpredictable beast.

Something else potentially dangerous I do with you is to let you sit in an empty diaper box and pretend you’re driving a Jeep Wrangler up the stairs.

Of course, I’m holding the box myself and pushing you the whole way up.

You scream with excitement once we get to the top, knowing that I’m about to slowly guide you back downstairs on a bumpy ride while acting like I’ve lost control of you and the box. (It looks even more dangerous than it sounds; which is why I’m not showing you a picture of that now.)

But before I do that, I push your “Jeep” down the dark hallway, into your even darker bedroom, making lion noises. You act like there’s a lion in your bedroom as I drive you next to your play tent. At that point, I grab the giant bolster pillow inside of it and pretend you’re being eaten by the lion… all the dark!

This is what you crave from me. Quality time with Daddy typically means I put you in a position where you’re not necessarily sure whether you should legitimately be scared as we play together.

When Mommy’s out buying groceries on Saturday mornings and you and I are playing together in the living room, I pretend to be a giant hissing possum as I slowly creep up on you across the floor. Then you claim safe haven on the couch.

You squeal with joy; yet once I get right up to you, this is what say:

“Daddy, you hold me?”

Then I instantly transform back into your Daddy, from a giant hissing possum.

You and I play scary and rough together. If you’re riding a horse with me, then I am the horse.

If you’re riding a horse with Mommy, it means she’s safely guiding you on a trained horse walking in circles.

You get the best of both worlds.





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