Category Archives: Playing

The Horse Dictator

Posted on by
Reply

Garrett Horse 1I have a story to share. Before I do, you should be warned. This story does not make me look like a good person. I was an asshole. I used my own child’s misery to get what I wanted. And, there is some mild animal endangerment in this story. Well…more like “Equine Mockery.” (I may have hurt the horse’s feelings, but that was about the extent of it.) Allow me to explain…

On Sunday, I took Garrett to a pumpkin farm. We arrived at 4:45, but I knew that the farm closed at 6pm. For a little more than an hour, Garrett ran around and played on the pumpkins, hid in the maze, climbed on the tractor, and bounced in the bounce house. Finally, at 5:45pm I convinced him to come and look for a pumpkin with me. Covered in sweat, dust, and some boogers, Garrett happily agreed to leave the play area with me.

As we made our way to the back of the farm, I noticed that they were giving pony rides. I asked Garett if he wanted to ride to pony and excitedly he said, “YES!!” So, we got in line and waited…and waited…and waited.

While standing in line, I noticed that the people around us had yellow tickets. I asked the family behind me what the ticket was for and was informed that we needed to buy a ticket in order to ride the pony. So, I knelt down and explained to Garrett that we needed to go back to the front of the farm to get a ticket for the pony. He put his hand in mine and together we went to get the ticket.

When we reached the ticket booth, I told the woman who was tending the booth that we would need one ticket. She replied, “No more horse rides.”

As I held Garrett’s hand, I asked again. “It’s only 5:59pm. Would it be possible to get one ticket for my son to ride the pony?” And again (without apology) she told me, “No. The pony rides are closed.” (Off in the distance, you can see that the ponies were still going around and around.)

I decided to take a different approach with The Horse Dictator. “Please make an exception. We’re only here once a year and my son has been looking forward to this.” Once again, she said, “No.”

Garrett was about to become the best wing-man of all time and didn’t realize it. As soon as he realized that she was not going to let him ride the pony, he began the “pre-cry whimper.” I could see the tears welling up in his eyes and I knew she saw it too. But, I also recognized that she was not going to be motivated into action by tears alone. With Garrett about to cry, I leaned in to the woman and deepened my voice. “Look. We’ve been standing in that line for 10 minutes. (True) There are no signs explaining that we’d need a ticket to ride the pony. (True) And when we did finally get to the front of the line to get on the horse, we were told to come here and get a ticket. (Not true.)” And I finished with, “….had we known all that, my son would be on the horse right now and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. (Technically, true)” Clearly, she understood that my tone had changed.

With a huff, she said, “Fine. I’ll ask if your son can ride.” And with that, she stormed off towards the horse area. I grabbed Garrett by the hand and followed her. When we got back to the horses, I saw The Horse Dictator speak with the young man running the ride. All I heard him say was, “Well…the horses are tired.”

I wasted no time and injected my thoughts into the conversation. With attitude and sarcasm, I responded, “What do you mean ‘the horses are tired?’ They’re horses! Do you know what they call ‘tired horses’ in other countries? FOOD!” (Yes, I really said it.)

The Horse Dictator whipped her head around and glared at me. The man running the pony ride actually chuckled and gave in. “Ok, come on. Your son can be on the last ride.” I thought The Horse Dictator’s head was going to explode.

Begrudgingly, she walked over to me and said, “That will be 6 dollars.” I had 6 singles on me. But, I’m a dick and I didn’t take kindly to her attitude. Instead, I handed her a 20 dollar bill and told her I wanted a shirt as well, plus my change. I did that knowing full well that she’d have to walk all the way back to the front of the farm to get the shirt and the change and then walk all the way back to find me.

So, as far as I’m concerned, this story has a happy ending. My son got to ride a horse named “Brownie”….and I got to torture The Horse Dictator.

Legos of Love

Posted on by
Reply

Lego“Garrett broke his Lego firetruck again.”

These are the words I was greeted with as I walked through the front door after a very long and exhausting day. In addition to being tired and mentally ‘fried,’ I had a sinus infection and the antibiotics had not begun to take effect yet. Or, they had begun to take effect, but were somehow putting me in a foul and mildly lethargic mood.

My mother-in-law showed me a pile of Legos on the table that, at one time, resembled a firetruck. Now, it was simply rubble. As MoGWE, informed me of her afternoon and evening with the boys, I continued to look over at the pile of Legos. I think the day had taken its toll because I wasn’t exactly listening to what was being said…and I was thinking about the Legos, but kept losing focus while having my eyes roll into the back of my head out of exhaustion. I keep doing the ‘head bob’ of an old man almost falling asleep while sitting up and then being jolted back to life at the last second….all while thinking of Legos.

After MoGWE left, I sat at the kitchen table and began to reassemble the firetruck once more. Not because I wanted to, but because I wanted to avoid the screams and crying the following morning as to why the firetruck hadn’t been magically fixed yet. (Yes, I am a superhero known as The Night Lemming. My secret power is to sneak around after hours and clean up toys.)

It took me about 20 minutes, but I rebuilt the Lego Firetruck. Afterwards, I slithered into bed and passed out.

Fire-1

There was excitement and glee in the air the following morning as Garrett got his firetruck back!! And, all was well with the world!

The following evening, as I walked into the house, I was greeted by the nanny. Her exact words were….

“Garrett broke his Lego firetruck again.”

Fire-2

Bike-sketball

Posted on by
Reply

Bike1 One son won’t go outside and the other one won’t come inside. On Saturday morning I asked Justin to come outside and play basketball with me. He lasted about 7 minutes and then complained of cramps, headache, pending heat stroke, and the possibility of dying on the driveway. While I was tempted to stop playing basketball and start playing dodgeball by throwing the basketball at his head, I allowed him to go back inside. As he headed towards the house, I told him to send out his brother.

Garrett was thrilled to play basketball with daddy. However, as I learned, I’ve been playing basketball wrong all these years. Instead, he introduced me to Bike-sketball.

The object of the game is for Garrett to ride his bike while holding the basketball. He then waits until he’s open (I promise you, he’s always open) and then he throws the ball straight up in the air. He’s not even close to the basketball net, but I don’t think that’s the point. Instead, he tries to ride his bike away before A) daddy saves him by catching the ball, or B) the ball hits him in the head. There are a few problems with this game:

  1. I still don’t know how to play the game correctly because Garrett keeps screaming, “No daddy!!!! You’re not doing it right!!”
  2. He’s a ‘big’ kid. Even if he were to pedal fast enough to get away, the first two rotations of the wheel go nowhere because he weighs too much for the bike and the wheels have no more tread. The wheels go round and round, but he goes nowhere.
  3. Getting hit in the head does not seem to be a deterrent for him. However, my getting popped in the chin a few times by him throwing the basketball straight up before I’ve gotten out of the way – big problem.

Bike2

I don’t see a bright future for this sport. I’m going to suggest Couch-Golf and Sleep-Surfing next.

Hide and Go Scare Yourself

Posted on by
Reply
Garrett or Poltergeist?

Garrett or Poltergeist?

Garrett has recently grasped the concept of Hide-And-Go-Seek. But, it’s not enough for you to find him. He has to see fear in your eyes and hear you scream bloody murder before he’s satisfied that you’ve played the game correctly. Sometimes, he’ll announce that you’re going to play (whether you like it or not) and then he runs away in the hopes that you’ll come after him. 

However, there are times when he does NOT announce that the game has begun and he just hides. When you’re not paying attention and a three year old comes out of nowhere while yelling, “SURPRISE!!!!!!!” – you jump! 

Hide-2

Hide-3

To a child – if it’s funny once, it’s funny a thousand times. To an adult – if it’s funny to a child once, it’s really, really, really, really, really annoying every single time after that!!

 

A Glorious Taste of Awesomeness

Posted on by
Reply

BowtieJustin is a “Gamer.” In the truest sense of the word, Justin eats, sleeps, and breathes video games. He’s into everything from Mario to Kirby to Minecraft. If you can play it on a console, he knows everything about it.

A few weeks ago, I installed Apple TV in my bedroom. From the comfort of my bed, Justin can now watch “How To” videos on YouTube for all of his favorite games.

While watching with him one evening, we stumbled upon Nintendo’s E3 demonstration for their upcoming games. Justin hadn’t seen it before and was riveted by all the new games that were going to be coming out over the next year.

I asked Justin, “Are these games going to be good? Did you like that presentation?”

He slowly turned towards me. The look on his face was a mixture of awe and amazement. It was like Justin had stared into the face of God. Once he collected his thoughts, he opened his mouth and said, “That was a glorious taste of awesomeness!!”

I don’t think those words have ever been put together in quite that way before. Justin may have inadvertently started his own catch phrase.

The next time you hear someone describe something as, “…a glorious taste of awesomeness,” just remember that it started with my son.

I love you very much

Posted on by
Reply

Bear3No other words have the power to melt your heart or betray your trust like the words, “I love you very much.” Especially, when coming from your own child.

 

Several weeks ago, Garrett started telling us that he “loved us very much” as part of his bedtime routine. Each time he said it, it felt special and unique. It was a great way to end the day. I would reply by giving him a tremendous hug and whispering in his ear that I loved him very much as well. This was our thing and it melted my heart each time he said it.

 

It was special….until Chip, Dale, and Teddi Barra from the Country Bear Jamboree entered our lives!!! (Well, technically, our brunch!)

 

For the past few years, we’ve taken the boys to the Mother’s Day brunch at The Grand Californian at Disneyland. It’s a fun event and they have a couple of characters wandering around the restaurant to hug and play with the children.

 

Garrett saw Teddi first and ran up to him to give him a huge hug. And then I heard him say, “I love you very much!” Huh?!?! Ok, probably just a fluke, I thought. I’m big and furry. Maybe he mistook the bear for me.

Bear

 

30 minutes later, Chip came by our table. (Maybe it was Dale. Doesn’t really matter.) Once again, Garrett ran up to Chip to give him a hug and said, “I love you very much.” What?!?!? He just gave the love meant for me to another fuzzy stranger??

 Chip

30 minutes later, Dale came by. (Maybe it was Chip. Maybe it was Chewbacca. I dunno. They all look alike when you’re on a sugar high from eating too many Mickey Waffles.) Again, I heard my son profess his love to someone other than me.

 Dale

Feeling scorned, I wanted to lash out. I wanted to whisper in Garrett’s ear about how Walt Disney was anti-Semitic, how those characters will never love him back, or worse – none of those characters are real!! I wanted to, but I didn’t.

 

Yes, I understand that a 3 year old doesn’t really understand the concept of love. Hell – I’ve met 40 year olds who don’t understand the concept of love. But, it was just one of those things that caught me off guard.

 

As I tucked him back into bed that night, he stood up to give me a hug. And then, he said those magical words: “I love you very much.”

 

Honestly, it was as special as it was the first time.