I’m a good father . . . At least I want to be. Part of being a good father, I have been told, is playing with your children. While it seems clear to many that a father must play, it is not quite as clear as to what that might look like. I doubt that many would disagree that children are likely to have much more energy than their parents. By the end of the day many, not all, parents want to relax in a nive plush chair after having eaten a full meal. I on the other hand, am a good father. My children request to spend time with me and I bend to their sovereign control in our home. Weeks ago we had a fairly long pillow fight. Molly and Spencer recalled this evening with great joy and desire and wanted to relive it.
It might be appropriate at this point to once again direct our focus to the title, “Lazy adult.” In my state of longing for relaxation I began to tackly my children and lay on them. They thought that it was fun to try to get out from under me and I was able to just lay there. After some time we moved to the couch. The same principle was followed but I was able to sit down. Molly and Spencer would attempt to hit me or jump on me and I would push them down with my feet and then hold them down for a while until they squirmed out and then the process would start over again.
Most of the time this game was safe. On a few occasions I knocked them around a bit, but only once did Molly actually do an entire flip in the air. Quickly she began to cry and immediately following, Spencer began what I can only imagine was a sympathetic cry. Seconds later they were up and we were at it again.
The evening had remained fairly controlled and safe until spencer began throwing his toy balls at me. I suppose it was my own fault. I did keep pushing him away from me. This slight twist to our game was short lived for two reasons. The first, Ryan walked out of the room carrying a full size basketball and proceeded to throw it at me. Due to the fact that the ball is twice the size of his head, his throw was more like a drop in my lap. Secondly, I grabbed a ball to throw back (at) Spencer. It was a small rubber ball, but it still covered a majority of Spencer’s face as it hit him straight in the nose. It may not have been as bad except for the fact that he was running as fast as he could straight at me.
Imagine the injuries if I hadn’t been lazy.