Joseph Medler daddy-o

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Yesterday we went out for Pizza. Having been through the everyday traumas that come with having kids that are 2 and 4, it was a nice coda to our Saturday. All our struggles other than bedtime were behind us for the day.

The kids still think of it as a special event. They run to the front to look at the pizza behind the glass, fingers pulling themselves up onto their toes. It used to be just Charlie, but little man has caught up, at least enough to want to do anything and everything his older brother does. In fact, as we walked through the door, Charlie holding my hand and momma holding Teddy, Charlie hatched a plan and became so excited by said plan that he ran off to execute it without working out all the logistics.

In the past, on the way out we would often stop in the small sparsely appointed vestibule that was between the door to the restaurant and the door to the sidewalk and I would pick Charlie up so he could stand on the black bench and look at himself in the mirror. I'd sneak my smiling face over his shoulder and we'd giggle before I'd plop him down to the ground, hold his hand and walk out.

Well this time on the way in Charlie dashed to the bench in the hopes of getting a bonus look on the front end of the visit. Unfortunately he didn't quite judge the climb accurately and on his way to what was surely going to be awesome he smacked his knee on the front of the bench. He knocked it pretty good. Nothing to cause real fear, but certainly enough to stun him. So I bent down and said, 'Ooh. That looked like it hurt. You okay, buddy?' He replied bravely that it hurt, but he was okay. When asked if a kiss would help he said yes, so I found his knee and I said, 'Is it this one?' I kissed the knee, asked if it was better, was assured that it was and we were back on our way. At least Charlie and I were.

Teddy wasn't quite ready to go in yet. He knew what needed to be done. I could hear the whining wiggles and turned around just in time to see momma putting him on the ground. I assumed he wanted to catch up to Charlie who was clearly headed to the front to look through the steamed up glass at the deliciousness of their favorite food. Nope. He was busily and quite comically and in slow motion performing a reenactment and embellishment of Charlie’s stumble.

First he ran away from the bench and slow fell and popped back up to fake run, at a pace slower than walking, into the lip of the bench. He's too little to fake the knee hitting the bench. No worry, he modified the choreography and simply bounced his belly off the edge. Having fallen to his diaper padded butt he stood up and said, 'ow.' and held his knee. Mommy knew her lines and asked if he needed a kiss. He did. Voila, he was all better!!

Before long I was waiting in the loosest of lines watching them, side by side, one's head clearing the counter (He cannot be that big!) and the other doing everything he can to appear to be doing the exact same thing as he struggled to see while pulling himself up to his toes.

'Teddy. Don't touch the food.' I warned, and Charlie agreed. 'Yeah Teddy, don't touch the food.' Teddy pulled his hand back but stayed on his toes grasping the ledge, pulling himself up.


About the Author

Joseph Medler

Joe Medler lives in New Jersey with his beautiful wife and two strapping sons. He will tell you he is the luckiest man in the world. You can find his writing at .

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