Every now and then I fall into a "child prodigy" phase. I ponder, boggle and "ooh and ahh" as I watch video after video after video of them on UToob. What the fascination holds for me, I'm really not sure. But it isn't a very satisfying endeavor, I can tell you that. I am left feeling:
1. That I have completely wasted my life. And
2. That I have completely wasted the lives of my offspring.
It's hard not to feel like a complete failure while watching a three year old in perfect timing and tune gracefully produce the Concerto G Major op.11 with the Johann Strauss Orchestra on his own little pint-sized violin . . . while MY 3 yo sits in diapers and drools while methodically flinging his Matchbox cars against the living room wall.
But maybe . . . . just maybe . . . he IS a genius underneath all of that drool. (If he would only keep his tongue IN his mouth, we could get past this!) Perhaps I just haven't fully appreciated the boy's mad skeellz.
I mean, who else plays The Monkey Game like this child? NOBODY I tell you. He's a MASTER of The Monkey Game! Probably because he's completely OBSESSED with The Monkey Game.
And he's found other clever uses for The Monkey Game pieces, too! Who knew?
Speaking of innovation - who else would think to fill his Tonka truck with such cool and clever cargo? Pencils, books, shoes, the aforementioned ever-fling-able Matchbox cars, marbles, dried beans, blocks, glue sticks, pizza (that was actually a rather unfortunate incident, come to think of it) mail, even himself.
Perhaps he'll be the next Lance Armstrong?
Is there an Olympic event for dashing in and out the back door? If so, he's got that gold medal DOWN.
Surely his ability to find a mess ANYwhere will take him far in life? It's astonishing, really, how quickly and deeply this child can delve into dirt.
Or maybe he'll be some . . . happy . . . little . . . dancing umbrella . . . dude? Hey, I'm open minded. Bring on the little mantights. He already has painted piggies most of the time. Fate, I tell you.
There's the whole "foodie thing." The boy likes his food. He WANTS his food. Even if he has to take matters into his own hands. I thought he was just impatient . . maybe he's really just a culinary genius!
Then again, maybe he'll follow in the footsteps of his greatest hero: Daddy.
If that happens, I couldn't possibly be more proud.
Dirt, drool, diapers and all.
I just hope he takes his time. The world has enough little people acting like big people, now that I think about it. I'd like this little guy to stay little . . just a little while longer.