Author: The Nack Daddy

Brutalizing!
Brutalando!
Brutalini!

A few months ago, the boys started smothering me in blankets. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to my brain, but I thought of an Arnold Schwarzenegger line in Total Recall: “Come on, Cohaagen [the villain], you have what you want, now give the people air!!”—or as people like to render his accent, “Give deez people ehyar!!” From inside the stifling blanket pile I blurted out (in cheesy accent), “Come on, you little Cohaagens, give the Dad-O air!!” Man was that a hit!

Ever since then, the lads have been requesting “brutalizing” (or as they Spanglify it, “brutalando,” or in faux-Italian, “brutalini”), insisting that they be the Darn Cohaagens while I play Ahnuld. I try to get into the bathroom to turn on the fan (y’know, to give deez people ehyar), and they race around turning it off, then re-burying me in blankets. Ja, good times! 🙂

A few weeks back on my work blog, I shared the intriguing work of Dr. Walter Tschinkel, a Florida “entomologist and myrmecologist” (i.e. bug-studier) who makes fascinating sculptures by pouring hot metal down anthills. The boys really enjoyed watching the video about his techniques:

Independently the guys have enjoyed being superheroes, giving themselves new names each day (“I’m Rain Man!” “I’m Bat-Saber, and I defend bats!”). I suppose it was inevitable that these worlds would collide. “My name is Dr. Ant Colony,” announced Finn the other day, “Y’know, like that Walter Tschinkel.” 🙂 He & Henry then began debating whether ants poop & pee.

Well, this being a small world, I asked the actual Walter Tschinkel! He was charmed to hear about his local fame, and he sent the boys a bunch of info & photos. “Adult ants only eat liquids,” he reports, “so their poop is kind of gooey and wet.” I’ll spare you the other gross (i.e. kid-delighting) details we learned.

Oh, and one more thing. A few days later, we had the following exchange:

Finn: “How are pipes made?”
Me: “Well, I suppose someone melts metal, then forms it into shapes.”
Finn (proudly): “You know who’d do that? Walter Tschinkel! He uses an old garbage can!”

“It’s not amazing that adults make children,” I’ve heard it said, “so much as that children make adults.”

Today I took the lads to Santa Cruz for some good times at the beach boardwalk. They were generally great, but just trying to keep them around & unflattened by crowds can get wearying. Their “predictably irrational” approach to walking—endless weaving & start-stops, seemingly perfectly coordinated to be out of sync with each other—inevitably grinds on a parent’s nerves.

Thus after 4+ hours we found ourselves leaving Marianne’s Ice Cream shop, and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel—or more specifically, the door to the child-securing implements in the Ocho. As I towed Henry towards the door, Finn kept jerking in front of me, causing my cow-catching hand to keep grazing his head to urge him forward. Cue the following conversation (in front of some biker chicks):

Finn: “Dad-O! I hate it when you poke me like that! Just all, blah blah with your hand!”
Me: “I know, dude, but why can’t you guys just walk like a normal person?? Just head out in a direction and keep going.”
Finn: “But I like to walk like this! [proceeds to demonstrate weaving, pausing, etc. in front of me]”
Me: “I know!! And see, it just really wears out a grown-up, and—”
Finn: “But that’s just The Life Of The Kid!!”

…at which point, the biker chicks started cracking up, and so did I.

“You know, Finny,” I told him, “I’ve never been a dad before, and you guys have never been kids before, so we kind of have to teach each other patience, okay?” Okay, he said. I think we’ve got ourselves a deal.