Blue Oyster Cult

If men are truly just super-sized boys, in other words, immature, then being a father of kids under the age of 18 is perfect.

You always have an excuse for making strange noises (with your mouth), singing silly songs, making faces, and acting like animals/monsters/robots--many times all at once. As an aside, if you've ever been embarassed to show public affection, kids naturally melt that inhibition.

I don't believe they bring out what was already there, though, as much as provide inspiration. They are so carefree and un-selfconscious, sometimes it's like being with a best friend---anything goes, without fear.

I loved watching Connor when he was 3 and 4 and then Maggie and now the twins: marching and singing something, with or without pants; putting on a favorite ballerina dress and immediately assuming the pirouette position; wearing said dress to the playroom at the gym, along with rain boots. Of course, while you can.

I've blogged before about the funny things toddlers do and which of them we as grown-ups could get away with in the office or at home or the park. We're so conditioned now against silliness, even though it's been proven that laughter is good for you, that it only comes out with good friends or too many drinks, and hopefully the latter with the former.

I'm sure most parents let themselves go around their children, especially when they're tykes, but we've all seen those that are so clogged up they're uncomfortable even when their kids are being goofballs.

On the other extreme, I see grandparents all the time at the playground chasing their grandkids like they were another kid. Not graceful, and let's face it, playgrounds aren't made for grown-ups to be clogging the aisles and alleys and slides and ladders, especially when it's crowded.

When I see this discomforting sight, I quickly review what I've learned about CPR, and vow to not do that when I'm a granddad. That's sitting-back-and-appreciating-the-life-you've-lived time. Grandads tell stories, and smoke pipes, and take Junior for walks in the damn forest, slowing down and stopping to catch breath every so often.

Hell, I don't climb all over the equipment now unless we're the only ones there--then it's hard to resist. No, let the kids play with other kids and hone their social and combat skills. I draw my silly line at engaging at a busy playground.

Hide and seek is just no friggin' fun when the kids are too young: "One, two, four, seventeen, eight," while they look through their hands, or they go hide and come out in 10 seconds or are discovered by a sibling who is not familiar with the rules. Acting like I'm "Gonna get ya" is a lot more fun when you're the only one who's gonna get them. Other parents are not going to see me Godzilla or Jaws or Zombie it up.

I'm going to try to make these things shorter; maybe that'll help me do them more often. Thanks for reading--now go nibble an ear while saying Yum Yum Yum Yum Yum Yum.