Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Babies Are Neat Toys

"Melanie" came over today and brought her new little munchkin with her. She has announced to us that she would like us to be his godparents, which honors us greatly. What would honor me more is if she would entrust me with his football education. I asked if he could come over sunday and watch the game.

I also wanted to start showing him a good three point stance and teach him the proper way to hold for a kicker (laces out)...but my inner coach advised me that it might be better to wait until he can hold his own head up before moving on to those more advanced concepts. I settled for feeding him, attempting-but-failing to burp him, singing him "Dream On" (kids love the Oakridge Boys) and describing for him only the most basic tenets of the West Coast Offense. The difficult stuff can come later.

Did anybody besides me ever notice that babies sometimes resemble space aliens? Seriously, when a newborn is about to start crying, they sort of fold their face in half. It reminds me of the sea monsters in the Sigmund the Sea Monster series when I was a kid. And their gums sort of look like pink mouth-ridges of a type I once saw in the Star Trek bar.

And what's with this whole "watch out for his soft spot" stuff? For the uninitiated, they are, of course, speaking of the part of the skull where the bones have not yet fused his melon toghether completely. My theory is that a good brain massage would stimulate learning later in life. Strangely, "Melanie" didn't want me to test my theory on her child. Hmmm.

Anyway, we (the child and I) came to several crucial agreements that will enable us to coexist in the overwhelmingly likely scenario where I have to take care of him, probably staring this weekend ("Melanie" has pleaded with us to take him overnight this weekend so she can get some sleep...girl's not in football shape yet apparently):

1) He is in charge of spitting up. I am in charge of cleaning it up.
2) He is in charge of filling diapers. I am in charge of changing them.
3) He is in charge of eating. I am in charge of feeding both our faces.
4) He is in charge of sleeping. I am in charge of watching him sleep.
5) He does what he wants. I stay out of his way.

I suspect I may not have been in top negotiating form this evening. Doesn't matter. I'll probably have more fun than him anyway.

6 Comments:

At 8:24 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Boy you are getting soft in your old age. Everyone knows that "Dream On" is truly only sung by Aerosmith. Get your facts straight. Oakridge Boys? And I thought you were my foster brother. Evidentally the aliens got too close for sure.

Putz. :>)~

 
At 8:38 PM , Blogger Dan said...

As the reader can see from the above comment, there are still some of Mom & Dad's old projects still walking around in the world. I know who this particular one is, and believe it or not he once had the potential to become a human being. Guess you can't win them all, eh?

But hey, I still get together with him fairly often to try to talk sense into him, and it's been about 21 years since he left foster care. I'm nothing if not persistent.

;-D

 
At 1:42 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

If you see Dan first please smack him upside the head for me...LOL Oakridge boys?!! Do we need to pull out the DVD and make you watch it until its burned into your brain? LOL

 
At 4:33 PM , Blogger Dan said...

Okay, clearly there is a group of deranged Aerosmith fans attempting a coup on my blog. FYI, here's a clue for the more severely musically retarded among you:

http://www.lyricsondemand.com/o/oakridgeboyslyrics/dreamonlyrics.html

 
At 5:25 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

thats like saying Def lepoard did a cover of a britney spears song. ..

 
At 6:03 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Watch the world revolt and devour the pretenders that think they are singers. The Oakridge Boys just smell funny.

Besides:

In the beginning
Good always overpowered the evils
Of all man's sins...
But in time
The nations grew weak
And our cities fell to slums
While evil stood strong
In the dusts of hell
Lurked the blackest of hates
For he whom they feared
Awaited them... Now many many lifetimes later
Lay destroyed, beaten, beaten down,
Only the corpses of rebels
Ashes of dreams
And blood stained streets
It has been written
"Those who have the youth
Have the future"
So come now, children of the beast
Be strong
And Shout at the Devil

Live and learn.

 

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