Things I Know Now . . .

I know what you are thinking, what a sweet and innocent boy (also, dude has hair!). Please remember, however, that said boy is captured forever still in this photograph. For if it was action, then you would see this boy jump left, jump right, put his right hand in, put his right hand out, put his right hand in and shake it all about while uttering a guttering wailing that can only be surmised as a cross between a Planet of the Apes bellowing and the sound I imagine victims of x-ray guns utter before vanishing into the great unknown. Last night, we visited relatives in an unchild proofed house. No biggie you say. But with Owen, Curious of All and Destroyer of Much it was hell on wheels. They say a toddler has an attention span of five minutes. And if one was to track his or her moments over a specific time frame, it would resemble the product of an intense session of spirographing. I left the apartment two hours later with a pounding headache. I remember the day before thinking - Yeah, I don’t have to cook dinner! But in all honesty, I would have made an eight course meal complete with crème brulee instead, because you know why? My house has gates, which contain the roaming beast. And it also has a bunch of toys, which pacifies the wondering beast. Oh, and there is this wonderful Cable TV station called Sprout, which soothes the beast with its Goodnight Show. So in a continuing list of resolutions with child, in addition to not smoke crack or invite hobos in for coffee, goes NEVER GO OUT ON THE WEEKNIGHT WHEN THE BOY HAS TO GO TO BED AT 7:00 P.M. I always hated tattoos, but thinking this one on my forehead might stop invitations.