Remember that old saying your mother always said – wait thirty minutes after eating before you go in the water? This rule works in other situations, too.
One of the games that I like to play with Gav is something I call “Attack of the 50-Foot Baby!” This involves putting Gavin up on my shoulders in a sitting position and holding him steady with one hand behind his back while I stomp through the house like a I’m a T-Rex rampaging through downtown Tokyo. He likes to be up high and look at the world from a different perspective. The only thing I get out of this is a bit of exercise and the chance to act like a fool, since I sing the Attack song to the theme from the movie “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes”. This also allows him the opportunity to grab my ears as hard as he can and use them for steering.
So the other day I had just finished feeding Gav and started in on the “Attack of the 50-Foot Baby” routine with him squealing with delight all the way. I went through the house and stopped in front of a mirror to see how the little guy was doing. He met my eyes in the mirror, gave me an immense toothless grin, and spit up all over the top of my head.
So yeah – lesson learned.
March 27, 2008 at 6:44 pm
You ask for an attack, you get an attack. Be careful what you wish for.
March 27, 2008 at 7:23 pm
I’ll second that one Josh.
Course, I’ve been there too, thankfully it was a lesson learned with my son and a bottle of carpet cleaner. 
I get my kicks by picking the girls up and hold them up by both hands over my head BEFORE they eat as we’re on the way to the changing table. Much less mess.
March 27, 2008 at 7:46 pm
doh…..too cute.
Luckily my son ate like a horse and the holding him on my shoulders thing didnt last long…..plus I dropped him once, and he hasn’t been real stoked about piggyback rides since.
March 31, 2008 at 4:39 pm
I used to carry my daughter Olivia on my shoulders all the time. Once, when our family was traveling in France, she must have been about 3, I had her on my shoulders as we entered our charming *little* hotel room in Paris. You know what’s coming. I donked her head on the doorframe a good one. She’s 17 now, and she’s never forgiven me for that one. Some people are soooo sensitive.
March 31, 2008 at 7:16 pm
Yes, indeed. The boys are big fans of the paratrooper game (toss ‘em in the air, catch them with a “poof” sound, slowly let them drift down and drop them on a pillow.) Mal’s a fine, fine paratrooper; Marty, on the other hand, landed, giggled and spewed the first time he touched down.
Good times.