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Posts Tagged ‘birthday’
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When a Tie Feels Like a Win
By Daddy Clay Monday, May 21st, 2012
My son loves to drape his arm casually over my shoulder and loom there. Usually with a slight smile on his face. Demonstrating yet again that he is, in fact, taller than me. I might still have ten pounds on him, but I have to rely on subterfuge when it comes down to it. When I pat his cheek, I feel a scruff. Patches of rough stubble.
In a matter of weeks he’ll officially be a high school kid.
I know high school kids pretty well. I’ve taught them, lived among them my whole adult life. Which hasn’t necessarily made me a big fan, especially swaggering jock-y boys. Nor has it made me feel prepared to raise one of my own. But a year into it, I have to say that being the dad of a teen is pretty great. Read the rest of this entry »
World’s Greatest Dad
By Daddy Clay Thursday, March 18th, 2010
I’d like to take moment , on the occasion of his birthday, to recognize the World’s Greatest Dad.
Mine.
We spend a good deal of time talking about fatherhood like we invented it. And while things undoubtedly have changed about being a dad, a lot about what makes a great father is that same as it always has been. Read the rest of this entry »
Put the Toy Down Dad
By Daddy Troy Monday, October 5th, 2009
After six months of a well executed PR campaign (PR=Parental Realignment), my son finally convinced us that an iCoaster would be the ideal birthday gift. We tried to explain to him that the expense might delay college for a few years, but as a seven year old he was having none of it. And while it may be post purchase rationalization, as a result of buying the iCoaster I am realigning how I evaluate toys. While I already have criteria such as fun factor, intellectual engagement, and creativity value, I have added a new one. Its a simple equation: Cost of toy divided by hours spent with toy. What is best about this quotient is that it is mathematical and speaks to the same part of the brain that . . .
Boy Scares Father Half to Death, Has Birthday
By Daddy Clay Friday, May 22nd, 2009
That’s right, my youngest, my baby, is five years old today. In just a few minutes, I will bail from DadLabs World HQ and head over to the pre-school to enjoy special cupcakes with the man of the hour.
I was almost unavailable for the festivities, because the birthday boy nearly sent me into cardiac arrest this week. On Saturday morning at about 7am, Kim sat bolt upright and charged out of the room. The I heard that special tone that is reserved for when she is genuinely afraid.”
“Coop. Coop.”
She runs into the bedroom.
“Coop is gone. The lights are on in his room. I heard him call Mommy, then I heard a crash and the door slam. Now he’s gone.”
I’m groggy, running through the house, heart pounding, calling his name. Sure enough, his room is empty, he’s nowhere to be found. I check every room. Dread is rising in my chest. I contemplate the possibility of a kidnapping. Impossible.
I throw on shorts and begin circling the house shouting his name. Wider and wider circles, trying not to become panicked. On about the third pass around, I see a boy walking down the road, followed by two grown-ups. But he’s too big. My youngest couldn’t be that big.
It’s Coop, of course, crying. He has walked a block, up to the dining hall (we live on an a boarding school campus) where he was discovered by a staffer. She was returning him. I asked him why he left the house.
“It was so quiet.”
Which made no sense for a while. Then I figured it out. On the weekends, when Coop wakes up, he heads into the TV room, where his older brother (our early riser) is watching cartoons. But Bubba was on an overnight. So when Coop came out, all was quiet. He became convinced he’d been left behind (always a worry for third children), and that we’d already headed up for breakfast.
His mom picked him up (I was worried she would throw out her back), and asked him why he hadn’t come in the bedroom to find us. No answer. But that was okay.
So, Happy Birthday, Coop. And please never do that again.
Has your kid ever given you a scare like that?
