I was grilling steaks for dinner tonight and Rakes wanted to come out on the back deck with me to "help". While walking around, he discovered we needed some nails pounded back in on the steps and a few on the deck, so I got the hammer and let him go to town.
Yes, I let Rakes have a hammer; what can I say? I was flat out exhausted. In one of my patented moves as a Dad, I decided we'd all go swimming for 3 hours this afternoon to wear them out and I could get a few hour of peace during nap time. Worked like a charm with Trot, but Rakes was having none of it. He watched Pirates of the Caribbean for awhile, then wanted to play Sponge Bob on the PS2, then finished up with Captain Jack Sparrow, while all I wanted to do was lie on the sofa and read in silence. Needless to say, I didn't get a lot of reading done.
After pounding nails on the deck for 20 minutes you'd think he'd be so wore out he'd be begging me to put him to bed. Sadly, that assumption was wrong; not 5 minutes after dinner he hit Trot with some sort of pro wrestling move that ended with both of them sprawled on the hardwood floor and Trot crying for the next 30 minutes.
At first we thought Trot had dislocated his shoulder, but by the end of the night he could put his pajamas on without crying so I'm wondering if it's just a bruise. We'll check him out in the morning to decide whether he needs to see the Doc, but if 3 different trips down the stairs didn't send him to the ER, I'm counting on this being just a blip on the radar.
While Ang put the little dirt dog to bed, I got Rakes a snack and a drink and put him in my room to watch Noggin. Which is where I found him 10 minutes later, cup on the floor and sound asleep amidst a pile of popcorn he'd knocked over.
As I shut his door after tucking him in, I listened to the suddenly quiet house settle down around me while the NESN pre-game show dimly played in the background and came to the following conclusion.
I have no idea how my wife does this everyday and isn't addicted to some kind of mind-altering drug.