The only person on Earth who can't piss me off!
OK, time to take a short time out from pissing and moaning and pass along a couple stories about my son. "BooBoo" is my little guy. The life and soul of our family with his antics, humor, and charm. Want to see me smile? Bring him up in conversation. I brag about him but with good reason. Just a couple short stories to show you why I look forward to every day with my little guy.
When Connor was a little guy just coming into his own, we used to make him do the "Bubba Dance". Every since he was a little guy he has loved to dance even sitting in his bouncy at home. So when he began to walk, he also began to dance. We used to setup gates throughout the house in targeted areas that he should not go including the kitchen. He used to come to the gate because he knows daddy is a soft-touch and would give him a treat; the only stipulation ... do the "Bubba Dance". It was a sort of "Cabbage Patch" mixed with the "Truffle Shuffle" ... sure, it's not funny to explain but that's not the point of this. I am laughing right now.
The other day I just got out of the shower. Connor comes streaking by the bathroom in his birthday suit - stops - comes back - turns his back to me and announces, "Hey daddy! Look at my nudy booty!" while he smacks himself on his bare cheeks. He starts giggling then takes off running through the house on his (henceforth named) "nudy booty marathon" which entails us chasing after him with clothes while he giggles and tries to get away ...
One day a couple months back, Connor REALLY wanted to go outside and play soccer (don't laugh the kid is too young for football!). It was late and he started fussing. He walked over to the couch, bent at the waist to lay down face first in the cushions and started sobbing. First it was crying followed by "Sooc-cccer Baaaall" in the most pathetic voice you can imagine. My heart sunk and I felt horrible, I mean it wasn't THAT late and the poor guy had been really good when we were out earlier. So I lean down next to him to put my arm around him and ... that is when I see his face is covered but he has a smile ... the little bastard was COMPLETELY playing me! How many times did I fall for that one??? The rest of the night, we played around with him doing his little act on command and even ad-libbing some lines into it where he would cry for whatever we told him too (mommy, soccer ball, the global ramifications of electing half-a-retard to the most powerful office in the world). That's my million dollar baby right there.
OK, so I just wanted to write about my little guy; I could fill up about a thousand pages a day but it would only interest me. Then again, that's why I write a blog. People read it, some even enjoy it, but mainly I want to get things down that either 1) piss me off (read THERAPEUTIC value) or 2) are important to me. My son is important to me; more important than anything I have ever done or will ever do in my life. He's my guy. My little BooBoo. And every night he greets me at the door with a variation on the same message "I missed you today daddy. Can we play until it's bed time?"
Always, pal ... always. I love being a dad.
When Connor was a little guy just coming into his own, we used to make him do the "Bubba Dance". Every since he was a little guy he has loved to dance even sitting in his bouncy at home. So when he began to walk, he also began to dance. We used to setup gates throughout the house in targeted areas that he should not go including the kitchen. He used to come to the gate because he knows daddy is a soft-touch and would give him a treat; the only stipulation ... do the "Bubba Dance". It was a sort of "Cabbage Patch" mixed with the "Truffle Shuffle" ... sure, it's not funny to explain but that's not the point of this. I am laughing right now.
The other day I just got out of the shower. Connor comes streaking by the bathroom in his birthday suit - stops - comes back - turns his back to me and announces, "Hey daddy! Look at my nudy booty!" while he smacks himself on his bare cheeks. He starts giggling then takes off running through the house on his (henceforth named) "nudy booty marathon" which entails us chasing after him with clothes while he giggles and tries to get away ...
One day a couple months back, Connor REALLY wanted to go outside and play soccer (don't laugh the kid is too young for football!). It was late and he started fussing. He walked over to the couch, bent at the waist to lay down face first in the cushions and started sobbing. First it was crying followed by "Sooc-cccer Baaaall" in the most pathetic voice you can imagine. My heart sunk and I felt horrible, I mean it wasn't THAT late and the poor guy had been really good when we were out earlier. So I lean down next to him to put my arm around him and ... that is when I see his face is covered but he has a smile ... the little bastard was COMPLETELY playing me! How many times did I fall for that one??? The rest of the night, we played around with him doing his little act on command and even ad-libbing some lines into it where he would cry for whatever we told him too (mommy, soccer ball, the global ramifications of electing half-a-retard to the most powerful office in the world). That's my million dollar baby right there.
OK, so I just wanted to write about my little guy; I could fill up about a thousand pages a day but it would only interest me. Then again, that's why I write a blog. People read it, some even enjoy it, but mainly I want to get things down that either 1) piss me off (read THERAPEUTIC value) or 2) are important to me. My son is important to me; more important than anything I have ever done or will ever do in my life. He's my guy. My little BooBoo. And every night he greets me at the door with a variation on the same message "I missed you today daddy. Can we play until it's bed time?"
Always, pal ... always. I love being a dad.
posted by Reed at 4:30 PM
1 Comments:
Stop me if I am wrong...but don't you have three kids? OHHHH...so only the boy you care about!!! He is your little buddy but your daughters...???? Just giving you a hard time. I know that you love all of them.
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