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Friday, May 11, 2012

Happy Fry Day

Things are cooking up around here.  Summer is around the corner. No one is sleeping yet. Seriously, when we survive all this I'm going too have some stories to tell you. Or maybe to a shrink.  

Here's a little nugget.

The other day EGB asked if she could go into the basement to get something from her kitchen. (I know, basement kitchens are dangerous, but we're living on the edge like that.)  After I said yes, she strutted her way down and then 30 seconds later proceeded to yell out a earth shattering shrill.

"What, what!?" I'm yelling at the top of the stairs wondering if she's fallen off the washing machine. (It could happen.)

"Daddy!  I heard a noise!!!!!" EGB is now paralyzed with fear.  

"What'd you hear?" As I had to go pick up the statue of ghostly white fear.

"Eeek, ook!!!!!!!!!"

"Ohhhhh.  That's easy to explain.  You heard the dryer or a small goblin."

"Noooo.  It was real!" Still shaking. "Daddy, it was a fox. Do foxes live in basements?".......

At this point, I realized that she TRULY thought a fox was in our basement.  

These are pivotal moments that I wrestle with as a parent.

I'm not sure about you, but in almost every conversation with a toddler, I push the elements of fantasy and reality without any major remorse.  It's fun to explore the annals of an unfinished mind. I mean, for how much longer can I tell her that we have a secret chocolate pool in a unknown gateway in our house or that I fight dragons when I go to work (partially true)?  She's knocking on the door of 4 and is getting mildly savvier about these types of things.

White as a ghost.  The realities of fear are very real.  So I did what any loving, caring, warm parent would do--I gave her some nunchucks and said, "Here you go kid.  You find that fox and bust his world up.  I know you're a girl and all, but it's time you put some hair on that chest."  And walked away.

Not sure what happened next, but I heard something that sounded like holes getting popped in drywall. 

The line between reality and fantasy should always remain blurred.  Growing older and full of this reality that things are and are not is quite boring, one-dimensional, and maybe dangerous for soul.  Ever notice that the visionaries of our times are those that don't accept reality?  Those that embrace what appears to be impossible to the rest of us.  Lucidity has its benefits.  That's the 3 year old in us all buried in layers of realistic perception.  But the only REAL reality is the POSSIBILITIES that exist in the universe.  EGB can tell you all about this if you come to her basement.

EGB is growing up quick and furious.  She's an emerging fuzzy-headed suburban mountain climbing ninja.

Some say me and my old dad look alike.  I don't see it.  He's scratchy.  I'm soft, but dangerous.  Betta believe dat.

It's friday yo. Get on your weekend hat and deliver some papers.  Maybe roll in some grass.  Grab a booby or two.  
What? Better look the other way or I'll vaporize you and take you to my leader who will sing bad karaoke to you.

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