How About A Different Game
So my nephew is here again, and we had an epic 'wrestling' match today.
I use the term 'wrestling' loosely, considering the match was him wildly swinging his tiny arms and me making sure he connected on at least one or two, given that his hand eye coordination isn't the best just yet.
As the minutes passed, and his miniature fists landed hay-maker after hay-maker with the force of a feather, I thought back to another time that I engaged in a similar altercation with my nephew.
He was probably a year and a couple months old, and I was watching the Bernie Mac Show, as I always do when presented the task of babysitting. That's where I get my strength. Salute to the late, great Bernie Mac.
As I watched, and took notes, my nephew found his way on to the couch next to me, as close as he could possibly get. I casually ignored him, secretly hoping it was a brief pit-stop in the midst of his aimless loitering from couch to couch.
I remained calm and quiet, avoiding any sudden movements...only to feel his piercing stare directed towards me. Recognizing that my immediate attention was needed, I knew that I could no longer pretend to be invisible.
Much to my dismay, I paused the show.
Being optimistic, I figured that I could teach him a thing or two in these moments that we were spending together, and what better skill to teach him than how to headbutt.
I know, it's not the smartest thing I've ever done, but I wasn't really thinking about the possible outcomes.
What started with some standard peek-a-boo, elevated to me pretending to headbutt him and him laughing hysterically.
After several laughs, I realized that the hours of Bernie Mac paid off, and I had successfully entertained my nephew. Feeling proud, I laid back down, grabbed the remote, pressed play, and was greeted with a ferocious and solid, 1 year old headbutt directly on my nose.
You know when you get hit in the nose, and your eyes start to water up a little bit?
Yeah, I'll just leave it there.
To make matters worse, as I began to regain consciousness, all I could hear was that same hysterical laugh that I had encouraged just a few minutes prior.
I had nothing to say. I couldn't get mad, because it was entirely my fault. I had to play it off like my nose wasn't on fire, and that I wasn't partially concussed, then calmly told him "Alright...no more of this game, let's play something else".
We also thoroughly discussed headbutts, and why Uncle Richie may have been wrong just this one time.
Fast forward to today, as I tucked my head in between my arms out of fear, I continued thinking. While my nephew continued on, convinced that I was unable to stand up and walk away unscathed at any given time, I realized that getting up and walking away might be the best decision.
I learned from my past errors, and wasn't prepared to endure a headbutt. Some battles just aren't worth having.
That being said, take what you can from this. Maybe you needed a laugh, or maybe you're about to do something that you know will end poorly. Either way, have yourself a good night, and I promise I wasn't crying...the tears never broke the plane.
Until next time,
Long Live The People
I use the term 'wrestling' loosely, considering the match was him wildly swinging his tiny arms and me making sure he connected on at least one or two, given that his hand eye coordination isn't the best just yet.
As the minutes passed, and his miniature fists landed hay-maker after hay-maker with the force of a feather, I thought back to another time that I engaged in a similar altercation with my nephew.
He was probably a year and a couple months old, and I was watching the Bernie Mac Show, as I always do when presented the task of babysitting. That's where I get my strength. Salute to the late, great Bernie Mac.
As I watched, and took notes, my nephew found his way on to the couch next to me, as close as he could possibly get. I casually ignored him, secretly hoping it was a brief pit-stop in the midst of his aimless loitering from couch to couch.
I remained calm and quiet, avoiding any sudden movements...only to feel his piercing stare directed towards me. Recognizing that my immediate attention was needed, I knew that I could no longer pretend to be invisible.
Much to my dismay, I paused the show.
Being optimistic, I figured that I could teach him a thing or two in these moments that we were spending together, and what better skill to teach him than how to headbutt.
I know, it's not the smartest thing I've ever done, but I wasn't really thinking about the possible outcomes.
What started with some standard peek-a-boo, elevated to me pretending to headbutt him and him laughing hysterically.
After several laughs, I realized that the hours of Bernie Mac paid off, and I had successfully entertained my nephew. Feeling proud, I laid back down, grabbed the remote, pressed play, and was greeted with a ferocious and solid, 1 year old headbutt directly on my nose.
You know when you get hit in the nose, and your eyes start to water up a little bit?
Yeah, I'll just leave it there.
To make matters worse, as I began to regain consciousness, all I could hear was that same hysterical laugh that I had encouraged just a few minutes prior.
I had nothing to say. I couldn't get mad, because it was entirely my fault. I had to play it off like my nose wasn't on fire, and that I wasn't partially concussed, then calmly told him "Alright...no more of this game, let's play something else".
We also thoroughly discussed headbutts, and why Uncle Richie may have been wrong just this one time.
Fast forward to today, as I tucked my head in between my arms out of fear, I continued thinking. While my nephew continued on, convinced that I was unable to stand up and walk away unscathed at any given time, I realized that getting up and walking away might be the best decision.
I learned from my past errors, and wasn't prepared to endure a headbutt. Some battles just aren't worth having.
That being said, take what you can from this. Maybe you needed a laugh, or maybe you're about to do something that you know will end poorly. Either way, have yourself a good night, and I promise I wasn't crying...the tears never broke the plane.
Until next time,
Long Live The People
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