002The boy is at the point where he feels the need to touch and feel everything within arms reach.  Walking down the aisles at the store he grabs at tags dangling from the shelves and bottles on the aisle end caps.  If there’s something in the cart he wants, he stretches and twists in the seat until he can get it.  We’ve almost lost a dozen eggs because of his sticky fingers.  Whatever he can get in the kitchen drawers would end up on the floor if we weren’t in there ready to tell him no and pull whatever it is he has out of his hands.  It’s a never-ending battle to clean finger prints from windows and pick up what he’s discarded in his wake.

One unfortunate thing that happened the other day because of his new urge to touch everything was the boy washing his face and hands in the dog’s water bowl while under my watch.  I was supposed to be watching him while his mother took a shower and was getting ready for our family outing.  I had somehow let him slip out of the living room but wasn’t too concerned because I could still hear him playing so thought nothing of what was going on.  That is until I heard my wife ask William, “What are you doing and where is your father?”  I jumped up from my desk and headed to see what was happening.  My wife wasn’t happy that I didn’t know where he was and that he had decided his hands and face were dirty enough to use the slobber filled dog bowl to try to clean them.  Let’s just say I’m doing a much better job of watching the boy now and making sure he stays in the same room as me.

I feel this is just the beginning of where we’re headed.  The terrible twos are right around the corner and I feel it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.  And when I mention something to my mom, or she sees something I posted, she just laughs and lets me know she’s seen it all before.


About jharbottle7

I'm a husband, a father, want-to-be writer, struggling blogger and cyclist. Starting a family has changed my life and made me want to become a better person.
This entry was posted in fatherhood, parenthood and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s