Son, for the most part, I’ve got you figured out. But some things are still a mystery to me. I’d like to take this opportunity to pose a few questions that have been rattling ‘round in my head for a while:
- I know you don’t really dig McNuggets all that much, and you hate it when I get you apple dippers instead of fries, so why is it that you insist in getting a Happy Meal during weeks when they have a lame toy? Does our household really need two Shrek mix-n-match card dispensers left for dead under the coffee table?
- I know that toy packaging is appealing. But why is it that once you’ve welcomed that toy into your fold do you insist that I cut out the back of the box and save it so you can look at the picture? You can look at the real thing –- from any angle. For as long as you want. And it really dulls my kitchen shears.
- How is it that you can never remember what mom just asked you to do 15 seconds ago, but can effortlessly recall a keyboard shortcut I showed you last weekend for your Lego Star Wars II video game?
- Of all the dozens of random buttons and dials you can fiddle with in my truck, how is it that you always find the automatic “headlight off” override? At least it has forced me to purchase a really good set of jumper cables.
- How is it humanly possible that you can stay totally alert when I read to you at night, no matter how late it is? And how did you learn to catch every mistake that your poor dad utters when he’s drifting off into dreamland trying to get through these books? And do you have to laugh so heartily at my expense when this happens? Ok fine, I’ll give you that -- I guess hearing “on the pineapple” instead of “on the bus” would even make me laugh... if I were awake enough.
- Why must you insist on bringing one truck, 3 Bionicle guys and a gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of action figures whenever we go out to eat, but only play with one Bionicle guy? Can you at least poke your other toys around a little, so my toy transporting and intensive tracking efforts aren’t for naught?
- I know my phone is drop-proof and waterproof, but do you have to huck it at a wall or run it under the bathroom sink every time you get your hands on it? Just because I do it? Ok, I’ll give you that one too... It’s pretty darn cool isn’t it?
- Please explain to me how you derive pleasure from plucking hairs from my scalp with your teeth whenever I give you a shoulder ride?
- Does rolling your blue Play-Doh ball up and down Krypto’s back really enhance the overall Play-Doh experience? And I know dads can do anything, but plucking dog hair out of a hunk of clay is a tad tricky, even for me. Maybe you can use your teeth?
- Were you a squirrel monkey in a past life? I can think of no other explanation other than being safe from cheetahs that would explain why you feel the need to climb on me every time we dine.
Dining al papa