Saturday, January 8, 2011

Why a baby needs a daddy

There are just some things that are a daddy's job.  In our house, it is jammie time, clipping her fingernails and playing with her non-girl toys.

When she was a baby (well, a younger infant), all of her toys were pink and girlie and pretty simple.  Shake the rattle, crinkle the book, listen to the song and watch the lights.  The toys that have recently invaded our home from her birthday and Christmas, are a little more involved.  You actually have to *play* with them.  The car that she rides in and we push, the dinosaur that she pushes around and we turn, the farm that she puts the animals into the silo so that they fall to the bottom and she can pull them out and put them back into the top again...the stacking cups, the see and say....the list goes on and on.

Bristle BlocksOne of her favorite toys from Christmas are her new bristle blocks.  I remember my little brother playing with these things when he was little.  Which only makes sense, because he is the one that got them for her.  She loves them.  They have become her teether, her phone (the big rectangle block she uses as her phone) and her throwing stars.  They are pretty much all purpose.  But the thing is, that aside from using them as a phone, mommy has no clue what to do with the silly things.  I sit with her and try to build something and nothing works.  I guess I need the bristles for dummies book or something because I am like so stupid when it comes to these things.

Daddy, on the other hand, whipped up this thing the other night.  No joke, he was sitting there for about five minutes playing blocks with her when I saw this roll across the coffee table. 

I was like, "hey!  how did you do that!?"  and the plane lived just long enough for me to say that before Kinley Monster came and crushed the plane.  Not really crushed it, more like disassembled it rapidly.

He claims that it's not a very good plane, but it was a quick job. 

Had I attempted that contraption of bristles, I would have needed A)  Directions *with* pictures B)  An hour  C)  A Kinley-free environment.  And then I would have been so proud of myself that I would not have let it roll aimlessly across the coffee table into the hands of the Kinley Monster.

That's why kids have daddies.

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