"The strongest, loudest fight there is is a fight between Daddy and Paige," Isaac told me as I was putting him to bed last night. "I don't like to get in the middle of that fight. In fact, I don't like fights at ALL. They're too LOUD."
I found Isaac's pacifist bent comforting, if not arguably inconsistent with what happened the very next morning. I was getting ready for work when I heard my son yelling enthusiastically in the other room:
"I'M BANGING ON MY PENIS, I'M BANGING ON MY PENIS, I'M BANGING ON MY PEEEEEEENISSS!"
His "penis," it turned out, was one of the "devil sticks" you see Isaac standing on in this picture.
It was propped between his legs and sticking straight out. When I walked out of my bedroom to determine what my child was doing to his private parts (this time), I saw him marching up and down the hallway with the non-tassled stick propped between his legs, and using the other two tassled sticks to whack his "penis" from side to side.
He was dressed for the day in his long underwear, a.k.a., his "ninja suit," and I asked him to please stop "banging on his penis" for a minute so he could brush his teeth. At first he refused (as per usual), but then I had a brilliant idea:
"You know," I whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "part of ninja stealth is fresh breath. There's nothing that gives up a ninja like bad breath. In order for ninjas to succeed in their secret stealth missions, they need to brush their teeth really hard, otherwise the enemy can smell them coming from a mile away."
Isaac's eyes lit up, and I handed him his toothbrush with the toothpaste already applied. He began brushing vigorously, dropping his "penis" to the ground in order to free up his hands for ninja oral hygiene.
Mornings with Boy. Gotta love 'em.