My 3-year-old son has been channeling Jimmy Durante. Last Sunday, I went to wake him up from nap. He was lying in bed, stroking his mother’s hair and singing:
“Skidamarink a dinky dink,
Skidamarinky doo,
I — love — you!”
It was almost as cute as when he told me a few days earlier: “Daddy, to mail a letter you need an envelope, a stamp and a zip coat.”
I think Son No. 2 is destined to become a performing artist, or at least a band geek. It’s in his DNA, after all. I was a drummer all through high school and college.
Not long ago I found a video of the 1979 Middle Tennessee State University Band of Blue on YouTube. (It’s crazy what’s on the Internet.)
My 3-year-old was fascinated with Daddy’s drum line. He sat in my lap and began to hum along with “Send in the Clowns” by Stephen Sondheim.
For his part, my 8-year-old son pretended to be interested for about two seconds and then drifted away to tackle a piece of living room furniture.
Sometimes my younger son tries to catch a baseball just to humor me. He looks up at me with a dimpled smile as if to say: “What’s the point here, Dad? And why is your happiness tied up in round things?”
No. 1 Son, on the other hand, by age 3 would step into a batter’s box, raise his bat and scowl at me like Pete Rose.
How do two brothers reared under the same roof have such opposite impulses.
Two things.
First, while I was playing catch endlessly with my older son, my younger son has been finding ways to amuse himself. In that regard, a keyboard or a guitar is much more entertaining than a baseball.
Second, if variety is the spice of life, our home is a dang little taco salad. So we’ve just decided to celebrate diversity.
Other 3-year-olds ask for a bedtime story. Our kid TELLS HIS PARENTS bedtime stories. In his stories, my character’s name is always Baby Daddy. (I know. Shut up.)
Baby Daddy has a bad habit of gorging on pancakes. Then he must go to the doctor, where he is scolded for his unfortunate dietary habits.
“The end,” the boy says, crossing his arms with finality.
Somebody please pass the Aunt Jemima?