I’m starting to feel guilty about the fact that I write about my kids so much. Honestly, doesn’t everyone have similar experiences, and therefore what I think is cute is sort of ho-hum for everyone else? Is writing about my kids lazy because it involves just observing what’s happening around me instead of actually going out and researching a story? I suspect that I should write about my offspring less, and my late New Year’s resolution is to do just that…starting with my next column. For this column, I’m going to that well once more, this time about my 2-year old son, Bronco:

The other day, I was stuck with a very difficult decision. Bronco cried out at 4:30AM and I went in to comfort him. I gave him his stuffed monkey and rubbed his back, and he fell back to sleep immediately. The problem was, I noticed that his diaper had failed and that he and his bed were soaked.

So, I had to make a decision – pick up the boy, change him and his sheets and risk waking him up for the day (and potentially waking his sister, depending on how loud things got), or let him sleep and deal with the problem in the morning. This would seem to be a no-brainer, given that slumbering in a puddle of biological fluid, even your own, is totally disgusting; but as a parent of young children I have learned that sleep is not a commodity to be spent capriciously. I took a moment to think it over.

In the end, I decided to do the right thing and enlisted my wife to help me change the boy and the sheets. In no time flat, he was dry and back slumbering peacefully. My conscience was clear, but I was surprised at my need to do risk-reward analysis before taking action…

…In other news about my son, he has started a habit of wearing socks on his hands. If I want him to leave the socks on his feet, then I need to give him an extra pair of hand socks. My wife, trying to be helpful, gave him an old pair of “prom gloves.” He wore those around the house for a while, but seems to prefer socks to items actually designed for hands. He will sometimes ask for help in putting the socks on his hands and then will complain if the socks are not “on right.” I’m not sure what that means, exactly. Does the heel of the sock go over the palm of the hand?
This behavior apparently started one morning when my wife went in to my son’s room in the morning and asked him why he had socks on his feet. He replied (and this is a direct quote), “I wanted to play with my feet. I didn’t chew on my piggies, but they wanted to be free. Then I put my gloves on, like Handy Manny.”

This is an interesting statement. Bronco generally chews his fingernails, and we haven’t really made an effort to stop him – mainly due to a fear of how else that nervous energy might manifest itself. Plus, I figure it’s relatively harmless, since I spent my entire life biting my nails (until, oddly enough, the day my son was born – since then I have not had any urge to chew).
The upside to Bronco wearing socks on his hands, if there can be an upside, is that he can’t chew on his fingernails. His explanation, however, appears to indicate that he has considered chewing on his toes during those times when his fingers are unavailable. If this habit forms, I can imagine that it will prove to be a bit awkward during social situations, especially as the boy gets a bit older. But, I suppose if your piggies want to be free, they want to be free.

My question is, however, if this habit takes hold and my son starts chewing on his toenails during a job interview, or while meeting a potential girlfriend’s parents – how much do I sue Disney (the makers of the Handy Manny show) for?