Noogie and Sally C Cups

The following is a throwback post from my days blogging for Parenting Magazine, re-published here for posterity’s sake. And because it’s funny.

The kids have invented a game called The Door Game. It goes like this:

Grace goes into her bedroom and closes the door while William stands in the hall on the opposite side. Then Grace throws the door open. William laughs hysterically and then pulls it shut, which causes Gracie to laugh hysterically. She then throws the door open again just as William runs out of the way.

The game usually ends with purple fingers and/or tender feet that have been bashed by the door. Despite these deterrents, as well as my own stern-voiced requests to end The Door Game once and for all, they continue to play.

Hanging from the doorknob is a pitiful rabbit holding what is essentially an arch of piano wire over its head like a mafia hitman. Since William can’t reach the doorknob, he uses the rabbit to shut the door. Being a highly intelligent problem-solver, I deduced that removing the rabbit would end The Door Game.

I slipped it off of the doorknob.

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The Parenthood Club

Earlier this week, I took the kids to the YMCA for Gracie’s swimming lesson. In preparation, I packed my travel bag with Goldfish crackers and a few toys, meant to occupy William while we waited.

Everything was going well until we walked in the door. William freaked. I’m talking about the red-faced, fist-clenched, curled-toes howl that makes onlookers think “Oh, look, here comes the world’s worst father, evidenced by his own son’s five-alarm wail.”

I’ve got a theory about William’s odd reaction. It seems he only does this when we’re in commercial buildings that have a receptionist area. Call me crazy, but I’m sure he believes were at the pediatrician’s office.

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