The Good Life – January-February 2019

“Poop is his favorite word,” she said. “It’s therefore a sign
of affection.” Sure, but it’s still poop, and the rest of the
literate world isn’t going to understand that when he calls
me poopy in front of the poor server who’s just trying to
take our order at B-dubs that he’s really just saying “I love
you, Daddy, I’d like some white milk, please.”
I won’t sprint into the middle of the
parking lot.
You only get so many chances to get this one right, so
please don’t give me any looks if I happen to lose my cool
while strongly supporting my son in achieving this very
important resolution.
I’ll remember it’s winter and my wagon’s
in the shed.
Time is a tough concept to grasp. I get it. I still get confused
about what day it is after a hard night’s sleep. I also get
that his favorite thing to do is walk to the park and drag
along his wagon in case he’s too tired to make the walk
home. But it’s been months since we last took a wagon
walk to the park. Months since he’s seen any hint of green
grass. Let’s connect the dots in our heads, eh son?
I’ll look down when I pee.
Whether standing up or sitting down. Walking, running or
riding. Driving, chipping or putting… watching your aim is
a valuable, versatile life skill. He’s pretty much mastered
every other aspect of potty training, so here’s hoping he
can dial in that midstream focus and keep it all in the pot.
I’ll make friends with the dog, finally.
Just be nice to the dog already. Please? She’s old and was
here first. And she’s really pretty awesome, even if she’s
got some concerning lumps and blotches of baldness. I’d
hate to one day have to blame you for those, son, so please
don’t put me in that position. I love you both.
I’ll break the world record for volume
of surface area touched in public in a
single outing.
It’s amazing to me how infrequently Mack gets sick. I
think he’s only had to stay home from daycare twice in
his life, which is almost record-breaking by itself. It’s
amazing because of the sheer amount of public-facing
stuff he touches. He’s put his hands on more goods
than a Hornbacher’s stock boy. Considering his strong
constitution, I’m quite curious to see how far he can take
this one. Surprisingly, he’s got my full support.
As for me, I’ve already succeeded with my New Year’s
resolution. Wildly so, in fact. No one has ever given up
faster or more effortlessly than I! But with all this free
time, I suppose I could resolve to be more patient when
morning tantrums delay our departure or when he can’t
keep his grubby little hands inside the shopping cart. We
only have 15 years before he probably moves out… I really
should enjoy them all as much as possible. •
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