The boys worship their dad and follow his lead as he clears 720’s off of every precipice. Or rather, Thumper clears it most of the time. Axel perseveres in manic attempts to clear it and Hootie-Hoo jumps off making all the appropriate sound effects. We travel from BMX park to ski terrain parks replete with full face helmets and pads for every sport. When we are home we are all hip hopping around the house while Thumper Dj’s. Baddy is the lead singer of
their raucous air guitar band. I keep 911 on speed dial.
People often say that Baddy has a certain Will Farrell appeal. This helps in the humor department. The other night, while trying to commandeer the boys to get ready for bed, I threw a book at him titled, “How to Redirect Children’s Behavior.” He commented that he didn’t need to read no stinkin’ book and proceeded to dramatize all he had learned from my painful parenting classes. In a split second he had the boys dancing behind him, giggling and performing the bedtime routine, no problem. It is unfortunate that I have to suffer, alone, the audible groans and apologies I hear when it is my turn to announce, “Hi, I’m Jillian, a mother of three boys”. But I don’t need apologies. I love my boys!
Currently, Hootie-Hoo is the one who keeps us on our toes. Quickly, his boyhood is escalating at all levels. He is always rock and rolling and following me around the house asking me questions about life; “Are real snakes stuffed like toy snakes? Why do they call it a tummyegg? (tummyache), where’s my banero? (bow and arrow).” He also redundantly inquires as to when we will be blasting off again to visit Grandma in an airplane? I have not yet decided what he was in his previous life, maybe my father.