Played dad last few days. After lunch today (at a taco joint in Corona del Mar), we stopped by Begonia park. After playing a while, I carried the bug up to the car. There I laid him on a mat (on the grass) so I could change his diaper.
After wiping clean his little butt, I stood to retrieve a tube of butt-cream from the glove compartment and, when I turned...
... saw he'd bolted down the hill, giggling, running butt-naked, fast as his little feet could carry him .. which is pretty fast (downhill), considering he wore no diaper or pants to impede progress.
••••• today's entry continues below •••••
This has become a game we play (at the park). He tears off while I try to change his diaper. I must admit, he's getting fast. I have to run hard to catch him.
Cracks me up, the way his legs motor downhill, nearly out of control. My cries of, "Hey! Get back here!" seemed to only make him run faster & laugh harder.
After retrieving the streaking toddler, I carried him back to the car over one shoulder, like a sack o' potatoes. There I set him back on the mat, where I applied the butt-cream.
Then I had I find a new diaper. The car was only a few steps away (other side of the sidewalk). I knew he was gonna bolt again. So I kept one eye on him.
Just as I spotted a diaper (in the backseat), he went from horizontal (—) to vertical ( | ) in a nano-sec ( ! ) and was off again ( ƒ ), giggling, legs going like crazy.
I wasn't about to run all the way down to playground again, and carry him all the way back to the car, so I sprinted after him, soon as he launched.
If you've ever seen a rodeo cowboy, on horseback, chasing after a calf released from its stall .. you have an idea of what I'm talking about. Rodeo dad. Yee hah! =)
A minute later, a kindly older gentleman came walking up the sidewalk from behind, with a girl (maybe his daughter). He must've witnessed my one-armed snatch.
"You still got it, sir." he called out, surprising me. "Don't let anybody tell you otherwise. The way you snatched him with one hand like that, mid-stride. Pure poetry."
"You liked my technique?" I asked, squinting in the sun to see his face. "Gave me chills," he replied, walking by, not seeming to mind the poopy diaper sitting there.
"As you can see," I called out, "I get plenty of practice."