May 24, 2017
My hearing of the pitter-patter of little feet up and down the hallway of my wood-looking ceramic tile house has officially passed.
My little boys' are aging so rapidly that their little feet are getting huge! They are so big, in fact, that I can't keep up with their shoe size.
"Is it size 1 or 2? Do they need a 2 ½? Ugh." This is my thought process at the clothing store.
Their naturally proportionate weight is pressing on their feet as their growth skyrockets from the ground up for all the world to see! The slight sound that used to pound while they ran now sounds like a jackhammer on any mid-town New York street. Back and forth, back and forth.
It makes me want to open a window and yell to the construction worker below, "Hey, you gonna be slamming that hammer on the ground all day! People want to sleep!"
Time surely flies. I know this is not because my knees hurt. I now have indigestion. My bald head is balder. My joints ache. I pee longer. Whatever! If you haven't figured it out yet, the point I have been making is that Jesus, these boys were just 2 years old, weren't they? Now, they are almost hitting the double-digit of aging! The older they get, the more it means one thing. Time to check my cholesterol daily.
With their new growth comes added responsibility. We started small: "Let the dogs out," "Let the dogs in," "Feed the dogs," "Take out the trash."
"Umm, Dad?"
"Yes, Nico?"
"Mommy told you to take out the trash."
And now I can add smartasses to the growth list.
I have decided. No, we (I wink) have decided to give these boys a little more freedom that coincides with their growth.
We were on a family trip in Orlando, and by Orlando, I mean Walt Disney World. We go to Disney often because when you are a Floridian, you feel like you own the joint. It's a right of passage passed on to generations of other Floridians. It isn't anything personal. You'd feel the same if you had a country with the word Kingdom in it. Am I right, England?
Nico and Christopher are at the age where they are so eager to please me that they get the things I need or do the things I asked to get done. This is going to change soon. I know this. It's like now; I beg them to keep their little bodies, now at the ages of 7 and 9, for the love of God, to stay in bed past 8AM so we can all sleep in. Funny how this will change when they are teenagers, and I am harping on their asses to get up at 8 AM and stop sleeping in!
We were at the lobby restaurant waiting for breakfast when I realized I had forgotten my wallet. I was too lazy to travel up 12 floors to get it, so I entrusted the boys to take the arduous walk to the elevator. Take their valuable time to wait for the elevator. Then, with great pain, extend their arm and use their finger to push the button so that they may travel, without walking, straight up to the 12th floor. Then, walk the 20 or 30 painful steps toward the front of the hotel door. Afterward, they use all their strength to rummage through their pockets, fish out the door key, and press it against the magnetic strip to open the door with all their power. Then, exhaustively push the door open, walk inside, and find Daddy's wallet. If that weren't bad, they'd have to reverse the whole process to get back to me. This would be an incredible feat because I'm obviously too lazy to do it, so it has to be.
The boys were so excited to do this. It is their first heavy step toward independence without being at arm's reach me. I thought allowing them such freedom and a little responsibility would be so easy. Still, I worried so much for their well-being that I wasn't as comfortable as I thought.
But thankfully, I could hear those pounding feet running back and forth. To the elevator. Into the gift shop. Back to the elevator. Away from the elevator and into the candy shop. Back to the elevator, then over to the pool area. Then, back to the elevator. <silence>
<worry>
<silence>
<getting up to see where they are>
<Hear heavy feet>
<sitting back down, knowing they will return>
<waiting>
<waiting>
"Dad! Dad!" the boys yell loud enough for the restaurant to hear.
"We bought some stuff at the gift store since we had your wallet!"
Yup, those pitter-patter little feet are surely growing fast. Slow it down, kids. There is no reason to grow up so fast.
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