Friday, October 22, 2010

Goalie

I never played soccer, nor lacrosse, nor field hockey. At least not very well. I'm not much of a goalie.

But I'm learning.

Every day, I find myself playing goalie in front of the dishwasher, or bathtub, or (wait for it) . . .

the toilet.


The little guy on offense is formidable competition. He comes at me with plastic fish, toy trucks, stuffed teddy bears, balls, even socks and shoes. He squeals when he scores on me.

He yells, "No, no, no!" when I make a dramatic save (i.e., Mr. Monkey skimming the toilet seat). I spin him around and say, "Go, go, go!" He giggles and comes right back in my direction.

He has other games too. I found a cookie magnet in my new knee high rain boots the other day. There were baby bite marks on it.

He's got some skills in the area of ultimate fighting as well. He head butts me and body slams himself on his stuffed hippo chair.

He recently starting playing "Capture the Flag" with my eyeglasses. Thankfully, they're just for reading, otherwise I'd have to feel my way around to find him. And them.

My bed has been turned into a virtual NASCAR speedway. Exciting? Yes. Treacherous? Can be. There were cars zipping across my back at midnight last night. You should have heard the sound of their engines.

All of these BOYS R US games have turned my world upside down. But, I've got games of my own.

I'm an old pro at the "night-night, Mama / Wake up!" game and I am a master pilot when it comes to airplane rides. In fact, my son is now giving airplane rides to his stuffed animals. I'm wondering if he'll start wiping their paws a hundred times a day too.

Clearly, he could start with Mr. Monkey.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Tailgating With Tots



Please sing the following lyrics to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer":

Stroller got run over at a tailgate . . .
rolling into traffic, Sunday eve
you may think that's no place for a baby
in retrospect, of course, I must agree.

Everyone was drinking too much beer
And next thing you know, I had to "go"
Since I dread porta potties,
I checked RVs for someone I might know

When I returned one hour later,
at the scene of the attack,
the stroller had tire prints on its seat,
and incriminatin' marks on its back.

Stroller got run over by a drunk guy,
rolling into traffic Sunday eve.
You can say a baby should not tailgate,
it was a lapse in judgment, I believe.

Thank god our son was not in it,
He's been takin' this so well.
See him in there watchin' football,
drinkin' beer and playin' cards with cousin Al.

It's not the same without our stroller.
All the family dressed in black.
And we just can't help but wonder:
Should we buy another one or send it back?
(Send it back)

Stroller got run over at a tailgate
rolling into traffic, Sunday eve,
you may think that's no place for a baby
in retrospect, of course, I must agree.

Pages