Playing With Dad

Here are the boys hanging out with Dad. He is better at keeping up with them in some regards than I am. He knows that they want to be a little more rough, and not so prim and proper. Daddy understands that when the boys slap you in the face it's not because they are being mean it is because they are bonding with you. He also knows they pull hair as a way of saying hello. That is what I refer to as "caveman chic". They also grunt at one another, and Dad seems to follow that too. He knows they love to be tossed into the air at an unimaginable height, and tossed into bed rather than kissed and gently placed into bed. I am still learning the ropes of boyhood. I figure it will be that way for a time to come. I was just getting used to the lovely tea parties my girls have and the "pretty, pretty" they wear. Now, I have been immersed into a world of wearing helmets used in various sports, chasing them up and down the hallway, and throwing toys at them rather than playing with them properly. I have learned that a toy is not a fun toy unless it is used in a manner in which it could possibly break. Gently, sweetly, softly, nicely, carefully, those words are not in a little boys vocabulary! Roughly, toughly, crazily, daringly, OH, MY, GOD!!! Those most definitely are!