over the course of any given week there are moments when i turn into someone else for my kids. you’ve probably heard of him. You’ve probably gone through times where you’ve turned into him yourself. It’s none other than . . . Jungle Jim.
Some of these JJ times occur while I’m taking a nap, sometimes they happen out of my own doing, and to be honest pretty much everywhere in-between. but the one thing that gets me and the thing that i may never understand is the innate desire that my kids have to jump on me while my eyes are closed and I’m defenseless. It’s like “hey, dad’s eyes are closed. quick, lets turn into high jumpers and instead of landing on a big blue mat lets land on dad (which sadly enough if I’m wearing a blue shirt . . . ah, never mind).” Now this isn’t saying that my kids are strange, I have to believe since probably the time of Cain and Able kids have been doing this (i know I’ve done it), but every time i jumped onto my dad as a kid i know the thought about 3 munchkins 28 years later doing it to me was not at the forefront of my mind. maybe it should have been.
a few days ago i was JJ for our youngest . . . my little guy. I was on the couch with my legs outstretched on the ottoman just relaxing (spending some time on my Mac) when he came up to me and somehow saw this as an invitation for jumping and bouncing. I don’t know how that works but at least i was awake. He’d get onto my legs, bounce around a bit, and then jump off. it was nothing serious and as long as he stayed calm while watching his show (and let his dad for the most part remain Tommy instead of Jungle Jim) i was happy to oblige. But that changed rather quickly.
At some point while sitting on my legs the sun that was shinning through our bay window in the upstairs living room got the best of him. I saw it / heard it coming but there was nothing that i could do. Somehow the brightness of the sun caught him off guard and though he tried to hold it, somehow it worked its way out. In the nano second that it took to take place i had many thoughts go through my head. I could lift my legs quickly which would result in him plummeting toward the wooden floor (not a good idea). i could close the lid of my laptop and maybe pick him up and set him on the floor, nope (i haven’t moved that fast since sneaking out of the cabins at Bible Camp). I could do all kinds of things or i could do what maybe most fathers would do in the moment . . . which was nothing. My choice was . . . to do nothing.
The result of this decision was wet feet. That’s right, wet feet. My little guy sneezed all over my feet. No socks on, just . . . my feet. Which was something i knew was going to happen but not something i was really prepared to deal with. As my feet were covered in a substance that i can pretty confidently say they’ve never been covered with before i calmly . . . CALMLY closed down my laptop (the damage was done), put it next to me on the couch, picked up my boy, set him on the floor and then proceeded to do the walk where you don’t let your toes touch the floor. You know, the walk that Marve did in Home Alone after stepping on the ornaments barefoot; yeah that one. I did that walk all the way to the closest towel.
After a few moments i was back to my spot on the couch . . . with cleaner feet i might add watching my little guy play with some toys. It was like he was oblivious to the situation he had just put his father in. After all, he wasn’t the one with wet feet. But then i thought . . . 28 years from now, haha i hope i get to witness it happen to him.
didntseethatcomin 