I wrote yesterday about Miles’s development from a literacy perspective, but the pride I feel about this pales in comparison to how I feel about Miles’s timing and commitment when it comes to comedy.
We chatted jovially throughout our drive to daycare this morning, leaving no doubt that we were both awake and alert (which, as a parent, I can assure you are not the same thing). Still, as we rolled into the daycare parking lot, Miles fell suddenly silent.
I opened his door to find him playing possum in the backseat, his head resting on the side of his car seat, eyes closed under his sunglasses.
“Miles,” I chuckled. “You’re too silly! We’ve got to get out of the car now.”
He remained totally limp as I went about unbuckling him, his arms flopping around as I removed his belts (which frankly made getting him out of the car easier than usual). I lifted him out of the seat, and even then he remained a floppy mass of limbs.He remained limp and motionless until the moment his feet hit the ground, and even then he seemed to consider, for a moment, remaining limp and just tumbling onto the pavement to maintain the ruse.
But no, he sprang upright and laughed as he started walking for the stairs. What a stinker.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 