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.
![]() |
![]() |
| Vacation Photos (See the gallery) |
We spent this past weekend at Mel and Ad’s cottage. It’s about a block from a lake. The basic agenda was to sit around, play at the beach, go out on the boat, go tubing and go skiing. We stuck pretty well to that plan.
I rarely get in the water. This is due to an unnatural fear of water/swimming that I have. When I was much younger (I dunno, 6 years old maybe), my dad decided he was going to teach me how to swim. We were at a beach. He was supporting my body by having both of his hands under the water with me lying on top of them. I was extremely nervous at the time. I remember, very clearly, telling him to not let go. He said, and I quote, “I won’t let go.”
He let go.
No warning, no easing his hands away. Suddenly, the support was gone, and I was going under. As a very young, impressionable, child, I quickly fell into a blood-chilling panic.
For about the next 18 years, I wouldn’t go into water any deeper than my waist. I worked up the courage to go to my neck.
3 years ago, we were hanging with Mel and Ad on their boat. Of course, the pressure was on me (again) to get into the water. I somehow found the strength to put on a life jacket and go to the edge of the boat. Adam tells me to just step off. The then GUARANTEES me that my head would not go under the water. After another 3 or 5 minutes of worrying and just standing there… I step off…
And go under the water. @$$%*&#
That quickly led to me going tubing and having a BLAST. This year, I actually got up on skis and did pretty well. I wouldn’t dare get in the water (if it’s over my head) without a life jacket, but I’m making progress. I also went tubing while facing backwards on the tube (Adam’s idea) and it was a friggin’ riot!
I don’t want Tyler to think his daddy’s a wuss-monger or anything, so I may have adjusted the truth a little bit. I scooped him up in my arms and told him about my death-defying stunts. I told him about the flips I was doing, and about catching about 15 foot of air on a jump. I felt a tinge of guilt as I told him my modified story. I’ll have to make sure to delete this post when he learns to read.
Now for a totally unrelated topic. Today finds me in Peoria, Illinois, sitting in a Holiday Inn hotel room. I was asked to come out so that I can demonstrate some stuff for bunch of people tomorrow… blah blah blah, work stuff. It was about 6 hours of driving. Fun times. Well, yesterday, I picked up a new GPS. I got the Garmin nuvi 205. Aside from telling me how to get from point A to point B, it also can store photos and display a slideshow. FINALLY, I can look at pics while I’m driving all over the place.
Well, while I was driving on the toll road, I turned on the slideshow to check it out. Up comes a picture of Tyler on the day he was born (7 weeks ago). He was born at 10 pounds 2 ounces, which is pretty frickin big. Looking at the picture, though, I couldn’t help but think of how SMALL he looked. He looks tiny, even though he looked gigantor at the time.
![]() |
![]() |
| BIG BOY (See the gallery) |
I certainly don’t remember him growing, but he seems to have done it anyway. I don’t think I’m a fan of this. It’s happening way too fast. The boy weighs 15 pounds now, and isn’t even 2 months old. Our dreams of him becoming a University of Michigan kicker, then an NFL kicker are turning into dreams of him becoming a UofM linebacker, then an NFL linebacker. I’m sure he’ll eventually grow into all his extra rolls and extra necks and extra chins though… right?
Look at him… he’s got moobs (sometimes lovingly referred to as man-boobs, or chesticles)