A little ‘I love you? goes a long way

Sometimes it is the little things that can make a person smile for a long time.
The other day I got one of those great gifts from our little four year old son, Sean. I sat down with him on the floor to play a video game (I believe the name of the game to be Sonic — whatever that means). Each of us had a controller to manuever our own player up down and around. We played for about five minutes — each of us not doing too well. After the bells and whistles stopped ringing and the lights stopped flashing, the game ended. Sean looked up to me and asked, ‘Do you know why I let you win??
‘No,? I replied, not knowing that I had won anything.
‘Because I love you,? he answered and then hugged me.
What a great feeling. This thing called parenthood amazes me. I never know what the boys will do or how I will react. Sean and his six-year-old brother Shamus are typical, red-blooded, hell-bent-for-leather lads — so they are often running at hyperspeed. I see other kids doing things and I have no problems with those kids or whatever they happen to be doing. Yet, if I see our boys doing the exact same thing, my blood pressure rises, my face turns red and it really whizzes me. On the other side, sometimes the boys do things I would have thought would anger me and yet, have made me smile or chuckle.
Why is that?
* * *
For about a week now, Jennie has kept me abreast of a new Sean thing that has gotten her goat. Up front, I’ll say I do not blame her as the boys are not yet too good at cleaning up after themselves. By telling me, however, I wonder if she was fishing for information on why Sean has a new practice and where did he learn it?
Honey, I think it may have come from me.
How do I convey this to readers without being too locker-roomesque?
When he, umm, is, ah, taking a leak (in the powder room, not outside by the tree which I did show him how), he drops his drawers and opens the toilet lid, just like he was taught and that is good. Then, (and here’s where things go south) with himself in one hand, he uses the other to flush just prior to and during the act of ‘number one.?
This of course flushes any straight aim he has down the drain. Unfortunately, what is ‘sposed to go down the drain hits the toilet, floor and wall.
I had not seen this until just the other night. So I asked what he was doing. He said he wanted to flush so it wouldn’t overflow and he didn’t want anything to splash on him. Of course, he doesn’t get the whole concept of space and volume — and he surely doesn’t know it would be about a 10 minute operation, producing about five extra gallons of stuff to make the commode overflow.
‘Sean,? I said, ‘when you are home you go to the bathroom and then flush.?
He had taken my advice from restaurants and public restrooms to heart. In a public place, when the lads ‘have to go? I always flush the urinals before they step up to the plate. I just don’t want anybody else’s unflushed stuff to splash on them, so I flush prior to the act. Just like Sean.
I reckon I’ll start the de-programming (Oh yes, lest I forget: Honey, I’ll clean up the bathroom when I get home).
* * *
Sean has also picked up another bad habit from his father . . . he drives folks insane because once he gets a tune in his head, he’ll hum it all day. Over and over and over and over those around him will hear his rendition of the theme songs from the Indiana Jones and Star Wars movies. He also likes Darth Vader’s intro music.
At least we always know where Sean is and will know when he’s coming down the hall.
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