Wednesday, May 29th, 2013
2 years, 6 months.
You should know: There’s this stereotype that little boys like playing with sticks and playing in the mud.
As if you really are so magnetically drawn to finding ways to get dirty and make messes; whether indoors or outdoors…
As if every time I take you to the park during my lunch break, you bypass the actual playground so you can collect sticks to throw them into the water and “make soup…”
As if you were predestined, and even hard-wired in your DNA as a little boy, to be so predictable like that…
Actually, all those things are true about you.
In fact, you sort of slipped on that rock and fell in the water; getting your whole left foot wet.
That’ll be our little secret. I cleaned you up good enough that no one seemed to notice by the time I took you back to school.
I also won’t mention the part about (or show the pictures of) you running from one end of the park to the other with your stick raised in the air like it was helping you fly.
After all, you had your cool skull-and-crossbones sunglasses on. Or, as I considered them in that moment, your “safety goggles.”
It’s funny to me that during our Friday afternoon tradition of going to the park, you never really look happy: You look pretty serious most of the time we’re there.
But I know the value of “serious” Daddy/son play time. You and I need regular time together in which words are not necessary; just primitive caveman stuff.
Yes, technically, you’re playing; but specifically, you exploring and experimenting with nature.
I guess your theory is this: If the good Lord intended for us to play with toys, He wouldn’t have given us sticks and mud.
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