We have this cool Leapfrog toy. It has a magnetic base that attaches to the fridge. It comes with ten magnets. Each magnet is either the front or the back of a vehicle. You can make a car, a truck, an airplane, a train, or a boat. When you do so, the base sings a song about them. It also says funny things if you make a plane-train, or a boat-car, etc. Do you think Tyler wants to play with it? No, he’d rather play with the simple, orange, round magnet that is just out of his reach.
“Howwwp,” he says.
“Help? Help with what?”
I gave the magnet to him after he pointed at it, and mumbled under my breath about wasting money on toys he doesn’t play with[1], and went back to unloading and loading the dishwasher.
“Howwwp.”
I looked back to see Tyler pointing at the space between the fridge and freezer doors. I mumbled something about the fact that the Leapfrog magnets were bigger than that gap, and Tyler wouldn’t need my help if he would just play with those magnets, and not the one that came free with a dry erase board. Instead of explaining this to Tyler, I simply retrieved the magnet and continued my chore.
“Howwwwp.”
Five times. FIVE TIMES he did this. Five times he didn’t learn not to do that. Five times I explained to him that he shouldn’t put the magnet between the doors because then he gets upset and needs daddy’s help and, while I’d love to play with him, I really needed to finish cleaning up the kitchen like a good husband.
I returned to the sink to rinse off some more dishes and load them in the dishwasher. A moment later, I turned my head to spy on Tyler. He had the magnet pinched between his little fingers, inserted halfway between the doors. He looked up at me and froze. With our eyes locked and neither of us saying a word, he, very slowly, pulled his hand and the magnet back and placed it on the front of the fridge. And he did this thinking that I wouldn’t notice what he was just about to do. Like, if he moved slow enough, I would have been none the wiser to his original intent. Sneaky little booger.
Now hold on just a gee dee second here…
This means that Tyler knew that putting the magnet between the doors was something that daddy didn’t want him to do. He knew this but was going to do so anyway. He knew right from wrong and yet still decided to be mischievous. He DECIDED to do this. Sneaky. Little. Booger. Why am I freaking out about this? Well first of all, because I always freak out. It’s a part of my genome. Secondly, this is just a precursor to much more ominous things.
“Tyler, did you try to cram a piece of bread in the DVD player?”
“No, daddy.”
“Tyler, do you know how my car door got that huge dent? And why there appears to be blood all over the cracked windshield?”
“Sorry, pops, I think it’s been like that for a while. Did you ask mom?”
“Son, do you know why my oatmeal tastes like rat poison?”
“Dad, you’re going crazy in your old age. Just eat the oatmeal. Oh, and I need you to sign this power of attorney form, and a couple changes I made to your will. It’s just technical stuff, don’t worry about anything.”
[1] Truth be told, he does play with this toy, but not avidly.
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