On Being Buddy

He's all snotty right now, so he snores and sniffles and yucks. Put some vapor rub stuff on him last night, and that helped me sleep.

He was sleeping hard when it was time to load everyone up this morning, so I had to wake him up. Let's just say that Buddy prefers to wake up on his own. A lot much. But we got it rolling, and I had most of his clothes on him before he got really pissed off.

When he hit that point, I started wrestling with him out of funness and diversionary tactics. He got into it, complete with his new thing of simultaneously headbutting me to the nose or lip and kneeing me in the I-Created-Yous.

So I let out a breath that indicated he hurt me, though I didn't let go of my grip on his shirt as I tried to hockey-jersey him. But he stopped for a second, put his hands on my cheeks and said, "I'm sorry Daddy", and then gave me a kiss with his hands still on my cheeks.

And with his hands still on my cheeks, and just as I was falling into the "Aww" moment, He headbutted me in the mouth. I've got all day to plan my revenge.


Why is it that kids can take toys and stuff out of a box or off of a shelf three to six at a time and thrown them clear acoss the room in a matter of .03 seconds, yet when it is time to put thm away, they carry the toys one at a time and in such a way that each toy is cursed with 50X's normal gravity?


Of course, Mama will say the same thing about me and my stuff. It isn't my fault she lives in my office, though.