Spending time at my parents’ house and, more specifically, around my father, has allowed Miles to experience some things he doesn’t get too much of at home. On Christmas night, we roasted marshmallows by the fire out back.
Last night, Miles got to see a raccoon feeding in the backyard.
Today, my dad insisted that Miles needed to spend time around things that were more dangerous than fire, spears, and potentially rabid animals, giving him a tour of his workshop.
Unsurprisingly, Miles was particularly interested in the items that looked like they could cause the most damage.
Eventually, Miles settled on playing with a comparatively harmless badminton racket. As the young lad stomped around the backyard, swinging at everything in his path, my dad said he was welcome to take it home with him.
Watching Miles cut a swath of destruction through the yard, I replied, “Uh, yeah, no.”
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 