October 23rd, 2013
Like 2 fighter jets, my sons excel in their speed while intertwining themselves in their mad dash to nowhere: they’re ready for a dogfight. I have no idea why they view all the flat areas we encounter on foot or when we get out of the car, like takeoff and landing strips. And boy, do I wish I had the afterburners to keep up with their bat-turns and not be such a Gomer.
I chase them down with all my might, exerting all the energy I have with one powerful thrust; however, it’s like they already planned their fighter pilot moves by zigzagging into 2 different directions, causing me to choose which path to take and which one of the bogeys I should keep in my sights. Since I lack an excellent wingman to help me on this mission, I’m on a sortie of my own. When did I become the Bandit?
I chose the one son I have padlocked, and I know I have the best angle to zero in on his vapor trail and commit a full combat attack on him. At the same time, I continuously check my six and ensure my other son doesn’t fall below the hard deck, even though I know I’m playing by their rules of engagement. I really have to keep my head on a swivel. This ain’t no knife fight in a phone booth.
The funny thing is that I know that when we arrive at our final destination, they are waiting for me to unbuckle them because they’re ready to plan their next hop. And yet, time and time again, they succeed in their dubious feat. My fun meter is definitely pegged.
It wasn’t always a game of ACM (air combat maneuvering) with us. There was a time when they actually listened to the Air Boss. They still do, but I have to raise my voice a few optics to let them know that I’m serious about their booming ways. I’m trying to not be so vocal now because I’m no nugget and yelling at them to STOP! It won’t be a quick fix.
My 2 sons are in a section all their own. And when they get spooled up, who knows how far they will run from me? That will work out all of their energy. My body isn’t old. I do have the power to keep stride with their rambunctious speed of heat. But they love to push the envelope. What child doesn’t?
I love that my kids play in a world all their own. They don’t care for video games or many indoor activities if they don’t involve some sort of physical exertion. They have the need for speed and love to have me bounce on them when they bait me out of the gates of my cocoon. They are my go-to juice that keeps me young. I need them because I’m no skipper without my fighter jocks, and I love them with all my heart. Bravo, Zulu boys, you’re my Top Guns.
Published on October 23rd, 2013.
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