Past Time
Tuesday, June 17, 2008 at 02:29PM Drew has discovered two new favorite past times. It’s as if he has already reached retirement and would like nothing better than to put on a bucket hat and live the rest of his days in Tampa with the new obsessions: paper to tear, and Mommy, the clown, saying “NO!” to all his stuffed animals.
He discovered his love for the ripped page Friday night when Gordon was opening his new poker set we gave him for Father’s Day. It was evening, past Drew’s bedtime, and he was a general Fuss-Ball, so how shocked we were, when, ringing out into the nighttime air, a sparkling trill of baby laughter burst forth. Gordon froze mid-rip. He was holding the cardboard box in both hands, a jaggedy tear unfinished down the middle. Drew was poised, grinning. Riiiip! Down with the rest of it. And you should have heard the euphony.
After we had ripped the cardboard box into tiny bits of U-Haul confetti, we found other things to destroy. The wrapping paper, the card envelope, a random parenting magazine (can’t dispose of too many of those, in my opinion), perhaps a Kleenex or two. Drew just howled and howled-- like those rather creepy teddy bears from The GAP that laugh like babies when you push their tummy. Anyone? Anyone? Anyway, Drew was beside himself. And really, I just knew he had it in him, you know? If babies have such a robust wailing ability, their laughter should be of Olympian scale.
The downside is that Drew is now always reaching for paper towels, shopping lists, Crate and Barrel magazines, and all other manner of rippable medium. Add that to Julie’s list of Things She Regrets Introducing to Drew, like cell phone buttons and remote controls.
As for Past Time Number Two, we just stumbled upon this yesterday. Have you ever been sitting in the nursery with your baby, and it’s just the two of you, and you are both looking at each other, mutually bored? For some reason, babies see it as your responsibility to provide the in-flight entertainment, as if they bought this ticket and you better deliver.
I don’t know how this came to be, but after a few minutes a plot was thickening between me and Drew’s little blue octopus in which the octopus was trying to suck my face off and I was desperately pulling and tugging at it, finally unclamping its plush nubby tentacles and staring down into its rosy-threaded cheeks. Drew would wait with bated breath. And then I would scold it, “No, No, No! Bad Octopus!” Oh, Drew just had a conniption. And then somehow that pesky octopus would break loose and attack Mommy’s face all over again and them I would once again carry out my obviously inadequate discipline, which was the height of comedy (in Drew’s opinion).
When Gordon got home I told him about the octopus, and then when I got home later from the gym (yes, I included that detail so you would feel guilty), I found Gordon scolding a teddy bear in front of Drew. I’m not ashamed to admit I felt a little deflated to see that Drew thought Daddy was equally funny. I mean, Daddy hadn’t even contextualized the scolding with a believable plot. That teddy bear was just minding its own business and suddenly he’s getting whaled on. “You just need to tell it no and Drew laughs,” Gordon said when I complained he should try to be a little more creative.
Ah well. I shouldn’t make it my past time to be the Funniest Parent. I'm already the Food Parent and Gordon ought to have something, after all. Regardless, it feels good to know your child enjoys the pleasure of your company, even if you must come bearing cardboard and a one-man-show.
We parents don't need much.
