May 16

Sorry Alistair

by


Dear 20 month old child I’m raising,

Sorry for setting you down when you clearly wanted to be held.  I appreciate the 10 minute tantrum you threw to remind me how strongly you felt about it.

Sorry for taking that marker out of your hand.  To be fair, I asked for it nicely 25 times.  If I’m being honest, I just don’t trust you.  Your mother and I value our property, especially all things upholstered.  When you get that crazy look in your eyes, I am scared you will wreck our “things”.  But the 15 minutes you spent screaming at me allowed me to understand how strongly you felt about it.

Sorry for giving you water when you obviously wanted juice.  I won’t make that mistake again.  Thanks for ear full I got for that one.

Sorry for changing your diaper right after you made an enormous poop.  I didn’t realize that you were interested in sitting in it for awhile.  I guess I just didn’t understand the appeal.  I know now, based on the flailing legs on the changing table, that I should let you enjoy your poo filled diapers. Please know that I am protecting you from getting a hellacious diaper rash.

Sorry for bringing you peas.  I must be a complete moron.

Sorry for putting you down for a nap when you were tired. What was I thinking?!  I should have my head examined.  I definitely deserved the face slap and your attempts at pulling my cheeks off my face.

Sorry for putting you in the car seat, feeding you, giving you a bath, clothing you, and pushing you on the swing.  I did all of those things incorrectly, and I know that now. Especially because you threw everything you could find at my face.  Message received.  I will work hard to improve my “technique” and make sure that I am only doing these things when you are “in the mood” for them.

I’m just really sorry for being such an incompetent idiot.  You are the best boss a father could ask for, and I want you to know that I’m working diligently to meet and exceed your needs.  Oh, and by the way, please enjoy your time in the world of baby diplomatic immunity.  Next year it all expires! (insert maniacal laughter) And then you are mine!!

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