“Wisten wisten. Okay. I have an agweement wiv you. Wisten. If I eat one two bites and you build all my toys den we can wets pway and I get a cookie. Okay? Okay!” [Walks away]
-Lucas (2013, 4.5 years old)
He sounded like a big league negotiator. There was no room for argument or comment or really even to voice agreement; my youngest son was already walking away to go eat his one two bites, thusly sealing the “agweement.”
It was Christmas morning, so I knew my place. I’m a dad. I’m there to tear through jungles of cardboard with my bare hands, wrestle twisty ties, endlessly assemble and install batteries and then play until I drop. And I love it. Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life, as they say.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t take one friggin seriously merry nap later.
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