If you don’t know by now that Tyler is walking, feel free to kindly leave. In addition to bipedalism, he can now climb up, and down, stairs. He is also currently attempting to render the baby gate useless through attacking its weakness. Tyler seems to have recognized that there is a vertical limitation on the baby gate that he is trying to exploit. What I’m saying is that Tyler is trying to climb over the gate. If that wasn’t enough to encourage the hair follicles on my head to cease production of melanin, Tyler also seems to understand that the key component in opening a door involves the use of a door knob. When simply pushing on a door yields no results, I have witnessed him reaching for the knob if he knows that his mommy is on the other side.
But it’s not all doom and gloom in the Irrational Dad household. Having not yet mastered the art of walking – he’s more of a Jedi Apprentice, maybe even a Padawan, whereas I am the Jedi Master – he’s still got a ways to go with running. It doesn’t stop him from trying, though.
A few days ago, Sarah and I decided to have a dinner date at Applebees (also known as “let someone else do the cooking/dishes night”). Sarah told Tyler to go to the car, so he climbed down the two stairs, walked out the back door, and towards the car, where I was standing.
Encouraging his listening to, and understanding of what Sarah told him, I said, “Good job, buddy! Let’s get in the car and go for a ride.”
Tyler began his attempt at running, which is nothing more than a faster walk, and promptly fell down. On the concrete driveway. He immediately moved to a sitting position, put his hand on his knee, and started crying. Sarah picked him up, had me kiss his boo-boo (scraped knee with a little bleeding), and passed him off to me so I could put him in the car seat.
“Come on, D,” I said.
Sarah asked, “D?”
“Yeah, Skinned Knee D.”
The next morning, I got up with Tyler, so that Sarah could sleep in. Shortly after coming downstairs and playing, Tyler brought a book to me and sat in my lap. When I finished reading to him, he put his hand on his knee and started crying. Looking at it, I saw that it was red and slightly inflamed.
“Buddy, I hate to say this, but we need to disinfect that,” I said. I left out the fact that we really should have done that the day before. You know, when it happened.
Tyler willingly foolishly followed me into the Emergency Room bathroom, where I soaked a cotton ball with peroxide. I then placed it on Tyler’s knee, and held it there while he screamed. The only thing I could think to say was, “sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry,” which surely did its part to soothe the stinging pain he was feeling (sarcasm).
“Okay buddy, we’re all done. Do you want daddy to put an ice pack on it?”
“Dasth,” he replied.
In the kitchen, I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. Normally, I use these to keep my lunch cool while I’m at work. Most recently, it was used to help alleviate some severe back-muscle pain I had been experiencing. However, this day was the day that Tyler would discover the soothing, pain-relieving properties of a frozen block of non-toxic gel, encased in plastic with the words “Ice Pak” printed on its face. Goodbye pain, hello happy baby. I gently placed the pack on Tyler’s knee. I did not get the happy baby I was expecting.
Tyler yelled out, and pushed – with a surprising amount of force – my hands, and the ice pack, away from him. Surprised into immobility, I just sat there as Tyler scrambled to his feet. I’m fully aware that a twelve month old can’t really scramble, but there is no other way to describe Tyler’s haste in getting up and getting the heck away from my evil torture. He turned, red-faced and teary eyed, to face me, looked me directly in the eyes, and chewed my ass out!
“Da Da DADA DADADA!”
Sarah and I don’t swear in front of Tyler (well, mostly. That’s the next blog), but there was no doubt that he was cussing like a sailor while he tore me a new one. The anger was dripping from his words!
“I’m sorry, bud. No more ice. Can daddy have a hug?”
Tyler walked to me and wrapped his arms around my neck. After giving me a bonus kiss, I picked him up, and we went outside to play. Out in the yard is where I stumbled on the two best medications for pain: fun and distraction.