Friday, May 15, 2009

Helping Daddy Get Ready


I have mentioned before that Shannon goes to the gym in the morning. That means that I am responsible for getting Max up, getting him dressed, feeding him breakfast and then getting him to daycare. It sounds like a lot, but it is really no big deal. We have worked out a routine and I enjoy the father/son time.

Part of our morning ritual is that I get up early and get showered and dressed before Max wakes up. As you can imagine, it would be difficult for both of us to get ready at the same time. On occasion, like most toddlers, Max does not follow the schedule.

This was the case last Wednesday morning. I had finished showering but had not gotten dressed before I heard my son’s little voice over the monitor. “Daaaaaaddy,” he was saying. I quickly threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and snatched my son from his crib.

I dressed him in a super cool outfit (as only a Dad can do) and then fed him his breakfast. After I wiped the oatmeal and bananas from his face and hands, we retreated to the master bedroom so I could finish getting ready for work. I closed the door behind us so Max would not wander off while I got dressed.

While I was getting my clothes together, Max kept himself busy by taking things out of the vanity drawers and throwing them into the bathtub. “Uh oh,” he would say as the makeup brushes and assorted toiletries would fly into the tub. “It’s not an 'uh oh' if you do it on purpose,” I would respond.

Rather than spend time picking things up and putting them back in the drawers I decided to get Max a toy to play with. I went into the hallway and grabbed his little Leap Frog train. It is a little train that he can either sit on and scoot around or stand behind and push. That seemed to do the trick because he spent the next few minutes pushing it back and forth across the tile floor.

I was brushing my teeth and not really paying attention to Max. I could hear the plastic wheels rolling across the ceramic so I knew he was busy. Just then, WHAM! I got a full speed train right in the back of my ankle. “Ouch!” I screamed, hopping around on one foot, toothpaste dripping from my mouth.

I was fully prepared to scold my son, but as I looked down he was belly laughing and pointing at me. I’m sure it looked very funny with Daddy jumping around in his boxer shorts. I couldn’t get mad at him so I said, “That hurt Son, don’t run over my feet like that.” I don’t think he heard me through his chuckling because he reared back and took a run at my other leg. I must have looked like a matador dodging a charging bull as I continued trying to brush my teeth. Both of us giggling at the new game.

Needless to say, it took a little longer to get ready that morning. I know I should discipline Max for stuff like that because it wouldn’t be acceptable around other people. For now, though, I’m just going to enjoy his “help”.