For the boy who is very much a hands-on parent to the little man.
For patiently reading to Elliott;
For being the expert in making milk;
For putting the little man to sleep at night;
For being the more patient one between us;
For bathing Elliott and singing songs with him;
For (still) walking and feeding Moon twice daily;
For not batting an eyelid at having to change poopy diapers.
Happy (2nd) Father’s Day!
Oh and I erm, have a little confession.
So I had this brainy idea that we’d make a card for Father’s Day. I headed to Popular bookstore and bought kids-friendly paint as well as a drawing block. I had it all planned wonderfully in my head – stick Elliott’s palm onto the paint and print it on the drawing block. Easy peasy, right? I planned to do it at the in-laws during one of the weekdays where I pick him up after work.
Well. Things didn’t quite go as planned.
For one, when I held Elliott’s hand and smeared it with blue paint, his happy face turned into one of pure shock and horror. It was as if his brain was going: WHAT IS THIS? WHY IS MY HAND BLUE? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!
He then proceeded to clench his tiny fist tightly (yes, the one with the blue paint!!) and no matter how I tried, he simply refused to open up. To make matters worse than it already was, he started to bawl (in shock) as my FIL tried to help him open his palm. So there we were, 2 adults trying to get a 15-month-old to “please open your hand!“.
As if things couldn’t get worst, my poor little man then (ohmygawd) used his hand with the blue paint to rub his face. So now, I have a screaming kid with blue paint on his face. It got on his nose, his eyebrow and smudged his t-shirt. URGH! I think my in-laws were half amused and half shocked at what this mad mother was trying to do.
I had to quickly abort mission and whisked Elliott off wash his hands clean of blue paint, then used a wet wipe to clean his face. Amidst it all, we did giggle at him with paint on his face. So cute la.
So yeah, I had the best intentions but the execution had to be aborted due to a less than cooperative toddler. Oh and for the rest of the evening, my poor (traumatised) son kept staring at his palm. Hur hur.
I guess we shall try again when he’s older and can grasp the concept of paint 🙂