Originally Posted by Lisnaholic
(Post 1565671)
^ Nice idea - some Pops Power after all the confessions of incompetence...
I´m happy to say that I can relate to your stories, Plank, Chula and BF, and I´d like to contribute a couple of scenes I´ll never forget. Here they are in the order in which they happened:-
Sorry to hear about the manic behaviour, Plankton...in calmer circumstances, I also remember my child falling asleep on my chest as I rocked in a hammock; if I spread out my hand, it´d cover his entire back, and I remember thinking, "Enjoy it while you can son, this kind of physical security won´t last forever!"
One morning, when he was walking, but not yet talking, I was at the backdoor step, sawing a piece of wood for a shelf. My son came to see what was going on, then ran off to his bedroom. A minute later he´s back with a big smile and his own little yellow plastic saw. He squeezes right in between me and the piece of wood so his saw is exactly in line with mine and then starts sawing away like me...
Even though it meant getting dirty, I liked taking my baby son into the back garden from a very early age. One morning after a tour of the garden, he sat on that same backdoor step while I took off his shoes, oozing with mud. As he watched the proceedings he suddenly said "poopoo shoe." It was the very first time he´d put two words together on his own.
Clichés are clichés for a reason, and I remember teaching my son to ride a bike, finally pushing him off on his wobbly adventure, just like you see in the movies. Later he wanted to show off his new skill, so we met his aunts, cousins, grandma in the local park and he demonstrated by doing a circuit or two of a basketball court. He ended the performance by braking in front of me and saying, "Daddy, you´re the max!" - a glowing moment of father-son pride.
So that´s up to what?, age seven, more or less, but I´ll spare you any further sacharine installments for the moment.
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