The baby is in charge, but Dad is lost
The Baby giggles when I turn him upside down.
That comes in handy when he's mad and screams like a Hun in the grocery store. Just turn him upside down and, boom, instant happy boy who no longer wants to sack Asia.
If Attila's dad had tried that, history would be a lot less full of grocery baggers' heads on pikes.
Today the Baby was mad. Really mad. Red-faced screaming monkey mad. So, I picked him up.
He was still mad.
I pulled up his shirt and made a "frrrirrrppp" noise on his belly.
No good.
I offered to raise his allowance.
Having no idea what an allowance was, he just screamed some more, which was fine because he's never getting that kind of money out of me anyway. I'll just tell him what my dad told me whenever I asked for an allowance: "You eat, don't you?"
"What's your problem?" I asked.
I didn't really expect my 10-month-old son to say anything, but those cartoon babies talk, so why not?
He looked at me in between sobbing breaths, maybe hoping for food, maybe hoping for a diaper change, maybe hoping I'd stop being so incompetent. I didn't know. But whatever he wanted, I obviously hadn't given it to him, so he screamed again.
Then, much like a skilled military tactician when he's losing, I did the unexpected. I turned him upside down.
The Baby stopped crying.
Taking care of a baby is a lot like filling out all that stupid paperwork for your CEO. If you don't keep them occupied, they get fussy.
"There," I said, looking at his little startled face, the red beginning to fade back into a normal pink. "You like that?"
I turned him right-side up.
He stuck out his bottom lip, already learning how to work people at his young age. I flipped him upside down again.
He giggled, so I tickled him. He giggled some more.
"Superdad does it again," I said, turning the little laughing boy back around. He stared at my forehead a few seconds, maybe dazed from being flipped around so much, then he looked me in the eyes and started crying again.
When it comes to screaming infants, dads don't know what to do even though we should. Babies like the same things we do, right? They like games, we like games on TV. They like mashed sweet potatoes and juice, we like pizza and beer. They like Mommy's shirt off, and so do we.
So you'd think dads would have a greater insight in to the pamper-filled world of babies. We don't.
"OK, OK," I told him. "Here we go again."
I flipped him upside down and tickled his belly. He opened his mouth and squealed.
Wait a second. Something was different. Something white was pushing its way out of his normally pink gums. For weeks he'd been fussy, drooling and gnawing on everything.
"Hey, you've got a tooth coming in," I told him. "Maybe that's why you're so mad."
Yeah, dads can be a little dumb.
