He loves nothing more than to see me wince in pain after I stub my toe, or watch and hear me get frustrated after I drop or spill something.
He doesn’t listen.
He always does the opposite.
He does things that he knows are wrong merely to illicit my reaction. And then laughs at that as well.
He’ll wait until I have all my important electronics around before he decides to spray me with one of his squirt guns.
He only says he likes the Twins and Byron Buxton to his brother, sister, or mother. If I ask him about it he says he likes the White Sox and laughs.
He screams and yells at the most inopportune times.
It takes me 20 minutes in the morning to get him to put on a simple T-shirt and shorts combination. (Meanwhile his 3-year-old sister has already put on all her clothes by herself, including her shoes, and is patiently waiting for us.)
He runs around the house with reckless abandon, plays in areas that are off limits, shoves his siblings, and says off the wall shit.
And he’s constantly trying to play mommy and daddy off of each other.
Ugh. This kid.
Just like his old man.
That big stroke of irony is never lost on me.
Every time I am struggling to fix something, he’s there to laugh in my face, or mimic my reactions of frustration.
Or say something like “Maybe mommy can fix it,” or “I wish Grandpa Hawk was my dad,” (Yes he did actually say that once, not long ago.)
It’s like he knows exactly what will set me off, and always manages to slip it in there flawlessly.
I always get mad for a second or two. Then I look at his face, see him laughing, and flip. I can’t help but laugh with him and think of the irony every time.
I used to make a living on knowing what would get people riled up and place it right in their laps for a reaction. All through my school years, and beyond…to strangers, good friends, family, co-workers, etc. No one was exempt.
I was ruthless at times.
I still have that gear, but I rarely ever go to it now a days.
Maybe my technique has matured. Maybe I’ve even grown up a bit over the years.
But unfortunately I have passed the torch to my son.
And, unlike what happened with yours truly, I hope it is something Harrison outgrows quickly.
Any tips out there on how to teach a 4-year-old that it’s actually cool to listen, and that it’s sort of mean to always be a contrarian?
I know a guy who would use some…