The Communicative Property of Slinkys

The child once urinated on my open laptop, a machine containing hard won graduate school coursework, and then told me, “no love you”. She can be like that. She’s two.

I told you that story to tell you this one.

This morning the Spouse had accidentally ingested a dose of mouthwash, and found that it worked poorly as stomachwash. So poorly, in fact, that vomiting was the result. This is not a favorable action in the spouse’s opinion, and she had a “hard time” of it. Unbidden, the child came running with two crackers. “Make you feel better? Yeah? You alright, mom. You’re a brave girl, mom”. A hug was given, and while walking away, the child paused to think, and decided on an encore hug. She hugged it like only kids know how.

Moments later, while she was on the phone with Grandma Quilty, their conversation revealed the following facts: child has a slinky, grandma loves those, where is your slinky grandma, oh I lost it years ago. No less than two minutes later, the child had wrapped her slinky in toilet paper and told me: “Grandma Quilty is sad, she lost her slinky, this is her present, I love slinky.” Then, charmin wrapped spring in her hand, she slipped out of the house naked and ran up the street, presumably to take it to the beloved grandmother’s house. I should mention that this house is two plus hours away driving fast on a good day. Those who study the psychological progression of humanettes should take note: at two years old, the subject has learned the communicative property (I have a slinky and I’m happy, giving grandma the slinky will make her happy) but not the spacial perception required to find nude distance running on this scale an undesirable course of action. On second thought, maybe she has, but the need to increase happiness via spring distribution trumped any hardship. The next time I’m draining urine from my laptop, I might try balance my rage with a little joy spreading afterward. Like the type of triple distilled human kindness the child can whip up at the drop of a hat.

She can be like that. She’s two.

Advertisements

About dadisthenewmom

A Level 3 Stay-At-Home-Dad (Chaotic). Master Kid-smith, Animator, Carpenter, Musician, Swordsman and Philanthropist. His physique is to be admired, his values are to be adopted, his bold vision will come to pass, his stride is crab-like. He is aware the last one isn’t overly favorable. Such is DadisthenewMom.
This entry was posted in Children, Parenting of, Dad, how to be one and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to The Communicative Property of Slinkys

  1. jenna says:

    Of this, I approve.

  2. Salty Sailor Mike says:

    great story, sir. so very precious

  3. Bob O'Booey says:

    The Stomachwash did prove functional. You may be on to something.

    I think Silly Putty had a similar genesis.

  4. Pingback: Tweets that mention The Communicative Property of Slinkys | Dad is the new Mom -- Topsy.com

  5. SKM says:

    This is a great post–worth reading aloud over coffee. If I had a Slinky, I’d give it to you.

  6. Pingback: Blog of the Light Brigade | Dad is the new Mom

  7. Pingback: Where The Fuffalow Roam | Dad is the new Mom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s