Fun with Mr. Freshpants

Mr. Freshpants and I have invented a new game. It involves him kneeling on a chair at one end of our small air hockey table and me on the other. Using all three available pucks, we hit them willy nilly around the board. Any scoring that happens is purely accidental. I’m talking minutes of madcap toddler fun.

Oh, and Mr. Freshpants is allowed to stop and pick up a puck at any time with his hands. This amendment to the rules was his idea. The rules are actually fairly fluid but the game is fun nonetheless.

We call this game “Crazy Puck.” Besides being a pretty descriptive name, it is also interesting to hear him try to pronounce the phrase “crazy puck” correctly. He knows lots of words but is still a little sketchy on the finer points of their pronunciation.

He apparently drops the “r” part of “er”, “ir”, and “ur” sounds in the middle of words. This has not escaped Girlzilla, who finds endless amusement in trying to get him to say the word “shirt.”

Girlzilla: “Say ‘Shirt’.”
Mr. Freshpants: (with gusto) “Shit!”
Girlzilla: (laughs) “No, I said ‘Shiiiirrrt’.”
Mr. Freshpants: “Shiiiiiit.”
Me: “Alright, cut it out.”
Girlzilla: (feigning innocence) “I was just trying to teach him to

Yeah. Anyway Mr. Freshpants has discovered the world of Thomas the Tank Engine and I read him the board books at bedtime. So far Thomas is not his favorite character, Percy is. I admit that I have to supress a Girlzilla-esque giggle every time he announces, “I want Percy!”
(You have to think about it a bit.)

So Mr. Freshpants’ bed from Ikea hell has turned out to be pretty nice once we figured out how to turn it so that the slide didn’t block the door to his room. Another slight mis(non)calculation. I can sit in my chair and hold a book and he is right at eye level. We can be face to face with him tucked in and me sitting and we can read books, sing songs, and say prayers at bedtime.

And I’m very pleased that he has taken to having “Goodnight Moon” read to him at night. I loved reading “Goodnight Moon” to Girzilla when she was that age. She was, at age two, quite accomplished verbally. (This surprises no one.) And sometimes tucking her in at night she’d just spontaneously sigh and say, “Good night bears sitting in chairs.” When I read it to the twins we fostered a few years ago we discovered the mouse that was hidden on each page. They wouldn’t let me turn the page until each of them had touched the page in the place where the mouse was hiding. It was a ritual that made them feel more settled and me feel less like throttling them when they climbed out of bed for the umpteenth time.

Seems like the great children’s bedtime books like “Goodnight Moon” are all about rhythm. As it turns out, putting a small child to bed is also like that — all about the rhythm. Crazy Puck, however, has no absolutely no rhythm whatsoever.

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