Unpredictable

As all parents learn kids can be unpredictable. One second they’re laughing the next they’re in tears. One minute they’re cooperative the next they’re throwing things. It’s truly a wonder everyone hasn’t been labeled a manic depressive simply by virtue of having been a child.

However, no matter how vigilant I attempt to be for the unpredictable my son always manages to catch me off guard. For example, while writing this column I heard my wife say, “not again!” while she was giving Eli a bath. I ask what happened and as she placed Eli in the hall outside the bathroom she looked at me and said he just pooped in the tub. Twice. I laughed thinking this fit in great with the whole predictability thing but neglected to see that Eli was now standing in the dining room peeing by the bookcase. I don’t know what’s more predictable: Eli going number two in the tub or me failing to see him peeing on something. (Considering I have been the something, on more than one occasion, it’s the latter).

Sometimes I think Eli plots unpredictable behavior. The other day my wife was giving him a banana while we were eating lunch. He likes banana and was playing this cute little game where he would toddle over to the table and grunt (because like a miniature cave man, that’s how he communicates) and when my wife offered him the banana he’d take a bite and then toddle off down the hall around the corner. A few seconds later he’d come wobbling back up to get another bite and do it all over again.

I was thoroughly amused by this and watched him complete nine or 10 trips back and forth until the banana was gone. Turns out he wasn’t eating the little mouthfuls of banana. Apparently he was just saving them for later because he was spitting them out in a neat little pile just inside his bedroom. At least he was tidily regurgitating his food.

Honestly, sometimes it’s better when I don’t see what Eli does because it saves me the trouble of having to address it. We were in a restaurant not long ago and Eli was in a highchair at the end of the booth. He was content playing with a straw in a cup of water (sometimes it’s wonderfully simple to amuse this kid) and I was proud that he was behaving so well.

The waitress leaned over to place my wife’s plate in front of her and I became paralyzed with awkwardness as I see Eli reach out and grab the waitress’s rear. I don’t want to draw any more attention to the situation, but I also feel embarrassed enough to apologize on Eli’s behalf because he’s so audibly amused by his action. I did the only thing I could think of to remove myself from the situation and pretended to be getting a text message that demanded all my attention for the next five seconds (or 11 years or however long it took the waitress to put the plates down and walk away). I don’t think the waitress bought it.

But this is how it’s been for me as a dad. Just when I think he can’t pull one over on me, my son does something to prove I’m still a step behind. I may never get to the point where Eli won’t catch me off guard, but there’s one thing I can look forward to. At least he’ll grow out of peeing on things.