We ate at the Mooyah’s in our neighborhood that reopened. They had balloons at each table and the staff was kind enough to give one to each of our kids. GirlGeeding let loose of hers and it floated away to the high ceiling. I started to jump in my flip-flops trying to grab the string attached to the balloon, and when I was on about my fourth jump, the six-foot-six-inch teenage girl walked up and said, “I’ll get it for you sir.” And without even using her tiptoes, she easily retrieved the balloon for DaughterGeeding and replaced my hero status for a short while.
That was a first, and it scared the crap out of me – I was sitting on the toilet when all of a sudden a baby gecko fell from the ceiling between my feed.
When you have kids, there’s a bit difference in where you sit. Instead of sitting in my recliner, all I have to do is sit or lay on the floor and all of a sudden the kids want to interact. Heck, all I have to do is lay on my stomach and they are crawling all over me without me prompting them. It took me this long to realize interacting with kids ain’t that hard.