Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Trouble down below

The biggest challenge of parenthood is protecting your feet. I, again, learned this the hard way as I stepped on short, squatty, plastic Farmer Jed as I climbed into our shower. He was passed out in there – drying out (so to speak) after a hard night of drinking at Murray's Tavern. Life on the farm is hard when you can't tend to your crops because an 18-month-old is trying to feed you to the dog. I'd be drinking too. Children are savages when it comes to your feet. My daughter strategically places her plastic giraffe – a zoo reject - at the bottom of the stairs and I've narrowly avoided that more than a few times. My dad, while we were growing up, broke a foot on two separate occasions. Surprisingly, both times were actually work related and not the result of a elaborate trap of toys set in the dining room. Our favorite trick as kids was to lay a minefield of the tiny Nerds candy across the dining room floor. I can still remember my dad howling, "They're like damn little rocks!" Perhaps this is the beauty of children being small – extra encouragement to look down. Oh, by the way, that's Larry Hughes of the Cavaliers in the picture – must have just walked through my house.