So last night, I was out for a walk with Sammy. You know, that kid I've got. This one:
|"Happy Birthday...Mr. President"|
And we're walking in the dark because WTF, Earth, it gets dark at 5pm. So I'm blabbering to him about the cars and the streetlights, and he's basically just playing with his hands or making Goo goo sounds.
Then, all of a sudden, a helicopter flies overhead, and I say to him, "Sammy, look at the helicopter!" and he looks skyward to see the lights of the helicopter pass over the trees and stares at it for a couple seconds as it flies past.
We both sit there for a bit while the sounds of the helicopter die out and in those few seconds, I'm realizing I'm having my first "moment" with my kid, where he's listening to me, and it seems like he's REALLY understanding what I'm telling him.
This is important because he usually pretends like he DOESN'T understand. Like when he's in his walker and doesn't understand "no" when you tell him he can't put his hands inside the trashcan or open up the drawers, or tip over plants. If you tell him it's time for bed, he sort of looks at you and thinks you're saying "Hey, time to play!" If you tell him he needs to be careful standing because he doesn't know how to walk yet, he thinks you're saying "let's see if you can run across the room!"
So I took advantage of that moment after the helicopter passed when he was listening to me to describe to him the detailed physics of how helicopters can stay in the air.
|Surprisingly, this is not it.|