Dad Entry #23

Michael and I play the “I love you more than…” game once in a while. I say, “Michael, I love you more than all the Blue Whales.” (I’m sure you realize that’s a good one because Blue Whales are the biggest animals in the world.) Then Michael comes back with, “Well, I love you more than all the Triceratops!” To which I say, “Oh man, you got me there!” So last night I threw Michael a curveball. I said, “Michael, I love you so much that when you were born, I cried, I was so happy, I cried like crazy, more than you did in the first hour I could see and hold you.” I actually didn’t cry when Meggie was born, I kind of steeled myself against it, although – as evidenced by the majority of these entries about her – I was moved. Anyway, I realized I’d gone overboard in my ‘love you more than’ game with Michael; I figured I’d just confused him. But Michael said, “Daddy, I know you were the guy who made me come out of Mommy’s tummy.” Sara and I raised an eyebrow and asked, in unison, “Really, how do you know that?” He said, “Because I saw pictures.” Sara and I smiled, we were thinking the same thing. Don’t worry, we never filmed or photographed that part. Anyway, I explained to Michael that a doctor – someone highly trained and qualified – had to ‘make him come out of Mommy’s tummy’. Then I braced myself for Michael to ask, “Well, didn’t you do anything to help me get born, Daddy?” But he didn’t ask. And we changed the subject.

Megan might be the cutest thing ever, but her diapers are very stinky. At least she warns us now, “I’m poopy, Mommy, I got poopy out of my bottom.” Then, like a skilled HazMat team, Sara and I scramble to get the offending diaper off and out to the garage. We have a garbage can for Meggie’s stink bombs in the garage. Our garage smells like crap.

Meggie’s a good talker now but she doesn’t always make sense. Yesterday I had this brief exchange with a barefoot Meggie:
Meggie: I took my socks off, Daddy.
Daddy: Why did you do that, Honey?
Meggie: Because it’s cold outside.

I went to the bookstore with the kids last weekend. I explained – to Michael mostly – that the three of us would stay together. That meant, to avoid separating, we might have to look at books Meggie likes first, then books that Michael likes, then books that Daddy likes. Michael was frustrated by this, “Well, uh, well, I don’t like princesses and I am allowed to NOT look at a princess book if Meggie finds one!” I agreed that was fine, he didn’t have to look at a princess book if he didn’t want to.

Michael has seen and read about how animals kill each other, how some eat each other for food. He knows killer whales and sharks attack seals, etc. Heck, we have chicken for dinner half the time and he’s a sharp kid, so he has caught wind of this reality. But, while playing, I caught him narrating stories like, “Hi, I’m a Protoceratops and I’m going to kill you now, Lambeosaurus!” I told Michael to go easy on the ‘killing’ storylines. I emphasized how it’s especially not nice to use that kind of plot or language when narrating stories about people or humans. Maybe they just wrestle and fight and stuff, I told him. Of course, then, while playing, I heard Michael say, “Watch out Brachiosaurus! Here comes T-Rex to make you not alive anymore!”