The Coloring Contest

I have always believed that one of the characteristics of a good dad is how sincerely and whole-heartedly he devotes himself to playing with his children.

Not in the casual way he might play with his nieces or nephews or the children of his friends but in a no-holds barred "I am really a monster chasing you and I am going to eat you and tickle you when I catch you!"- kind of way.

I bring the same sort of intensity to my arts & crafts sessions with Sippy Cup.

We had a coloring contest this morning (I have included our masterpieces for your review).

Now I can sit here and explain how coloring is great for his imagination and helps him work on his fine-motor skills and include other educational development terms that will make me sound awesome; however, this was (first-and-foremost) a contest and I could care less about those things.  I wanted to win! 

I brought out all of the tools in my creative arsenal.  I outlined precisely.  I shaded carefully.  I incorporated some of the Renaissance techniques of Chiaroscuro.  I even included low-lights in my character's hair!  How awesome is that?!  I knew I had it in the bag.

It took Sippy Cup 10 minutes to finish his page. 

I, on the other hand, dedicated a good 45 minutes to my pièce de résistance.

And it's pretty clear he still won.

Surprisingly enough, I am perfectly ok with that.  No.  Honestly.  I am perfectly ok with that.

Now, if you'll excuse me, my son and I are going to go play some Jeopardy.

  "X-Man Projecting Eye Beam"

Mr. Cufflinks

"Scott is Awesome!"

Sippy Cup

Silent Posting (10)

He2

Right now, I am watching my son run around the house, chasing after a helium balloon.

So far, he has used the balloon as:

1. A punching bag
2. A tail
3. An imaginary friend
4. A jump rope
5. A parachute

In the living room, there are well over $200 worth of toys, games and puzzles piled in a corner.

My son has, literally, chosen to play with hot gas instead of the toys he amassed over the holidays.

And, for some odd reason, it totally makes sense.

Who You Gonna Call?

M.O.M. (clipping his fingernails): "Sit still so that I don't hurt you by mistake."

Sippy Cup: "Ok.  When you're done with mine can you cut James' fingernails?"

M.O.M.: "I would love to.  But I can't.  I can't see James."

Sippy Cup: "But he's right here next to me."

M.O.M.: "That's great baby but I still can't see him."

Sippy Cup: "Haha!  That's because he moved!  Now he's behind you!"

M.O.M.: "Oh really?"

Sippy Cup: "Yeah!  He likes to play Hide-and-Seek.  That's his favorite game!"

Me (shouting from the living room): "That's it!  I'm moving!"

Far Enough

M.O.M.: "Good morning baby!"

Sippy Cup (rubbing his eyes): "Mommy!"

M.O.M.: "You have to go brush your teeth."

Sippy Cup: "Nah, I don't think so."

M.O.M.: "Yes you do.  Your breath smells."

Sippy Cup: "You smell.  You smell like two smooooooking hotties!"

Me (from another room): "Haha!  Awesome!"

M.O.M. (sighing): "Your father needs to stop quoting Charlie Sheen around you."