The worst thing about having to work overtime? Not being able to play with Tyler when I get home late. I mean, we have the tent set up in the office with his entire toy collection covering the floor.
There’s nothing like burying ourselves in his stuffed animals and shouting for mommy to join us :-)
I was in the office browsing the Internet and listening to Howling Rain on iTunes when I heard Karin yell, “Tyler! Get back here!”
Engrossed in what I was reading I didn’t think much of it. I mean, how many times can you hear those same four words before you begin to tune them out? But then I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, accompanied by shrieking laughter.
Turning around, I saw a wet, naked Tyler dancing in the middle of the office.
There he was, dripping wet, bobbing up and down at the knees, elbows held up at his sides, head listing to the right, shaking back and forth at the waist in time to the music.
Karin soon rounded the corner, towel hanging over her shoulder, shirt soaked. “He escaped from the bath,” she said with a smirk, watching our laughing, naked two-year-old do his little dance.
The music ended. Tyler did a little bunny hop then took off with even more high-pitched laughter, shouting our cat’s name.
Yep, that’s my son. Heh…
This is the end result of a day at the zoo to see the yearly butterfly exhibit (you owe it to yourself to go see this)…one sleepy kid who passed out on top of mom on the couch as we were taking off his shoes. Karin didn’t have the heart to wake him, so they both enjoyed a nice nap.
I love music.
Actually, “love” might be too understated of a term; it’s more of an unhealthy obsession.
When my eyes were opened to the world of music, I was introduced to, and indoctrinated into, the ways of The Cramps, Yello, Talking Heads, Violent Femmes, Sisters of Mercy, David Bowie, Kraftwerk, Bauhaus, Operation Ivy, The Strangers, The Jam, and The Replacements.
Fishbone, Oingo Boingo, Frank Zappa, The Cure, Nick Cave, The Damned, and The Nails provided me with my soundtrack for my more formative years.
And today, at this stage in my life, I’m still heavy into music. Nearly every genre of music has hidden gems that often go overlooked. In fact, right now, in heavy rotation on my iPod is Saul Williams, Dr. Octagon, Ancient Astronauts, Blind Pilot, T-Bone Burnett, Chinese Man, Combustible Edison, RJD2, Disturbed, Curtis Mayfield, LCD Soundsystem, Portugal The Man, Eagles Of Death Metal, and The Cat Empire.
I have over 350Gigs of music on my hard drive. Let me tell you, backing that thing up takes hours.
My listening habits are so diverse that my brother-in-law recently asked me, “When Tyler rebels against you, what music could he possibly use?”
I could only laugh, shake my head, and reply, “Country?”.
But I can’t imagine any son of mine stooping so low as to bump country music from his car stereo. I mean, could he be so cruel and spiteful? 
Ever since his first trip to the barber, Tyler knows where the barber hides his stash of lollipops. When we walk into the door Tyler makes a beeline behind the counter and helps himself to a lollipop.
Normally we don’t allow Tyler to eat candy, but I think it works to our benefit when taking him to the barbers and allowing him a shot of hard candy.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is what an instant sugar coma looks like:
Yes, he’s actually frozen in this position, lips wrapped around candy, fist clutching paper stick. While in this state Tyler is like one of those posable Gumby toys, making it a snap for the barber to cut his hair.
Does hacking our son like this make us bad parents
