I can remember when my first child was born. I talked about Junior with the gusto and enthusiasm only a new father can.
I talked about his birth, how amazing it was to see this little human being come to this earth. I talked about how incredible he is and the amazing things he did on a daily basis – like make spit bubbles, or the day he discovered his hands. You know, the really important stuff a first born does.
I talked about his first word: Grbbbbxxlavb – which I believe is ancient Monrovian for ‘Hello, how are you?”
Not bad for a five week old.
I talked about his first attempt to crawl, his first step, his first everything was topic of grand discussion, whether people wanted to hear about it or not.
I know many of you are rolling their eyes and thinking, ‘So he’s the guy who told everyone about his kid, even if they did not care. He’s the guy who forced words into my ear, polluting my brain with unwanted information.’
That’s right, I was the guy and I am not ashamed to admit it. I had two more children after K-1 and I bragged about them as well.
When the kids were little there were so many milestones it was hard to keep up.
My wife would phone me at work with regular updates.
‘Junior just made his first stinky on the potty. Yay.’
I would then relay the incredible news to my coworkers, who I am sure were all thrilled to learn that snippet of information. Although some of them pretended to be disinterested, I could tell deep down, they really cared that Scooter had developed the skill of not pooping in his pants.
The bragging continued as he grew and there were comments about the first time he rode a bike, or climbed a tree, or burped his full name. I was particularly proud of that one, but my wife was not so thrilled. She obviously did not appreciate just how much time I spent teaching him how to do that.
When the second one came around, I must admit I did not brag about every little thing he did. Sure there were the milestone moments that I let the world know about, but I was realizing just how unspectacular many of his baby actions were. By time the third one arrived, bragging was reserved for the really big events. After all, I had seen it before. It does not mean I love my second or third children any less, I am just seeing things differently than when the first one made the scene.
I began to think back on my coworkers who pretended to be disinterested. Could it be they actually did not care that my new baby could put his foot in his mouth? Could it have been they actually were not smitten with the latest addition to the planet?
Naw, they loved hearing about Junior as much as I liked talking about him.
Now my ‘little boy’ is a 19-year-old man and his ‘little brother’ is almost 17. Little sister will soon be a teenager, but that does not mean the bragging stops.
Now I just brag about other things.
“Yeah, so the missus and I went away for the weekend without the kids and when we got home, the house was still standing. There was no visible damage and, as far as I know, the police never attended even once.”
Other comments of a teenage parent include how well they are doing in school, how well they are doing in sports, how well they are doing in knowing everything there is worth knowing no matter what you tell them based on your years of knowledge.
Yup, when it comes to kids there is no shortage of things to talk about.