When a man is nearly forty the time comes for him to spend $29.95 so that he no longer has to carry his tennis things in the bag he used as a bicycle courier in Washington D.C. nearly twenty years ago.
Oh, great moment of moments! You finally arrived at The House of Joy!
Let us go then, let us venture forth to the sporting goods super store. Hallelujah!
The Family Joy thusly ventured forth to Dick’s Sports Emporium (not this Dick) and lo, owning a tennis bag is as easy as that.
Leaving Dicks, I got The Mayor into his car seat as K helped The Rooster into hers.
The Rooster is learning to climb up into AND down from her car seat and consequently, adult help with either one of these activities is now strictly verboten.
If you so much as support her elbow she will scream like a demon child possessed,
“I DO IT!!! I CLIMB UP!!!” She will spit great venom, her head will twist around in a full 360 degree spin and her “strong like bull” body will become rigidly convex.
The thing is, Rooster’s not that GOOD at getting in or out of her car seat yet and it can take the better part of a decade.
Me? Not so patient.
K? Mo' better patient, but still…
In the Dick’s parking lot, the climbing up had gone on far. too. long.
To keep some parental sanity in reserve, K had to “help” The Rooster.
One minute he was strapping her in and the next…
He was flat on his back in the parking lot moaning.
“What happened? What happened?” I asked.
Here’s where I would like to craft a tale of Mighty Baby Girl Power wherein The Rooster called upon her INNER NINJA and karate kicked her father to the curb.
The truth is just plain sad.
We are old.
We injure our old selves doing the utterly mundane like loading a kid into a car seat.
Apparently K made one wrong move, pinched a back nerve and fell reeling to the pavement.
A man who is nearly forty years old should not have to lie in a sporting goods super store parking lot moaning with a brand new tennis bag on his chest.
K managed to finally get up, finish loading The Rooster and ease into his own seat.
The drive home started out quietly.
After being lost in thought, The Mayor emerged.
“Dad,” he said, “I’m going to grow up and be bigger.”
“That’s right Mayor,” K said.
“Yeah. I’m going to be bigger and my back is going to hurt.”
So we’re teaching him about back pain and all the really, really important stuff of this life.
When we got home we taught him all about drugs.
Hello, Vitamin I.