Dad Entry #33

Megan and I will both – officially – be one year older this month. Megan will be 3; I will be 33. Man, I feel like Sara and I were kids when we had kids and yet I’m 30 years older than Megan. I read recently that men continue to perceive themselves as younger than they are. I guess so. The secret’s out; the psyche of men revealed. Oh well. Although, I do feel my age occasionally. Examples: after a long night out with friends, after playing basketball with guys 10 years younger, while noticing my thinning hair in the bathroom mirror.

Speaking of hair, Megan’s is really long. It’s so soft and beautiful. I love it. I love her. I think I’ll weave a hair-shirt out of it. Just kidding. We need to cut it again. It’s constantly in her face and it’s very good at collecting things like the caramel she dips her apples in, the glue she makes cotton-ball art for me with, oatmeal, toothpaste, stickers, yogurt, etc.

Megan, Michael, and I went to Minneapolis for Labor Day. We had a blast with Gramma and Papa Mike and the Laurienzo's while Mommy visited a friend in Georgia. We started with a day at the lake for swimming and shell collecting. Snail shells are not pleasant smelling. Then we hit the state fair which had everything from carnival rides to zoo- and museum-quality animal exhibits. They had cotton candy there too, and Michael, Alissa, and Elle took advantage. Megan, however, thought it strange and refused to eat it. Good girl. It does have an unusual texture. On Labor Day Monday we golfed with Alissa and Michael (Papa Mike and Uncle Scott rounded out our group). Alissa is cute as can be and is also a great little ball striker. Michael didn’t hit many shots but he did drive the golf cart. He sat in between Papa Mike and me. Only once did our lives flash before our eyes. We were driving on a hill and Michael had ‘the pedal to the metal’ – which we encouraged him to do most of the time and it was challenging for his short legs – anyway, ‘pedal to the metal’ isn’t advised if you are on a hill and turning. Papa Mike and I both white-knuckled our respective side rails and screamed, “STOP!!” at the top of our lungs. Michael – a little shocked by the intensity of our synchronous and sudden plea – did as instructed before the cart barrel-rolled down the hill with the 3 of us in it.

I think Megan is, well, instinctively a little sweeter than Michael right now. I hope Michael isn’t offended if he reads this one day. First of all, Michael is a boy. Second of all, these types of trends reverse themselves during different ages and phases. If he doesn’t mind being called ‘sweet’, I just might call him that one day when he’s in a ‘nicer than Megan’ phase. But for now, Megan is more willing to share, is more of a ‘nurturer’, and is more forthcoming with words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ (though admittedly I’m more mesmerized by her soft, sweet voice than Michael’s). Megan is not, however, a doormat. She stands up for herself when overly provoked. She barked loudly and abruptly at all of us over the weekend at least once. And she’s been pretty crabby the last couple days. I guess she isn’t perfect after all. But she does give great hugs now. She really wraps her little arms around your neck and gives a good squeeze. Heaven on Earth.