Let's try something new today. If you ask for something and someone—me, your mom, your teacher—says no, ask why first. Get more information. Because there's always a reason and it might keep you from flipping out.
Okay, let's try it now. Papa, can I have ice cream for breakfast?
I replaced the batteries in this one, Wyatt.
Okay, Papa. I love you.
Aww. I love you, too, buddy.
Can I have my walkie-talkie back now?
It appears the back pain that grew to a debilitating level over the weekend is a slipped disc, which I perviously understood to be something old people get. I know I’m wrong, I’m sure there are plenty of younger people who’ve suffered a slipped disc. But, I don’t know them.
Anyway, that means that I spent Sunday and Monday basically on the floor while my kids begged me to play with them. There were moments of joy, like the 10 minutes I was able to sit up and build them a Lego ship. Mostly, however, my back just made me a disappointment to the boys because they don’t understand what the fuck a slipped disc is or why they should care.
And before you assume I self-diagnosed, I did limp into a chiropractic office yesterday and was told my self-diagnosis of a pulled muscle was, in fact, bullshit. So, now I ice off-and-on all day and go back to the back-cracker multiple times to get things squared away. In the meantime, just being awake hurts. So does sleep sometimes.
In other news, I was able to hobble to the open house at our boys’ new school last night. We met the teacher (who said she, too, is a twin) and the boys found where they’ll be sitting.
Tomorrow Wyatt and Boone start kindergarten. Real, actual school.
I’d be crying right now if my back didn’t hurt so bad.
Boys and bubbles. Serious business.
My wife texted me to say Boone just cut his own hair.
She then sent me a photo.
He looks like Clint Howard.
Nothing gets your misbehaving kids’ attention more than throwing a Lego vehicle across the room. Related: I am a terrible parent.
I just bought the dad equivalent of mom jeans.
I now own a pair of Crocs.
Yesterday when I got home from work, I went up to our bedroom and flopped onto the bed to decompress. Then, Boone came in and laid down next to me and told me the entire story of the episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles he just watched.
The entire story.
No detail was left out.
"…and I sayeth unto you, join my Twitter party…"