July 1, 2016
This could be my “aha” moment. The moment I figured it all out and everything fell into perfect harmony around me. It was the 13th or 14th consecutive day that Arthur had spent some period of the day angrily banging his head against the wall or floor along with throwing himself against large toys and wailing. He was Ed Norton in Fight Club. He was fighting himself.
(Arthur just went 12 rounds with this play area. But who was he really battling?)
Arthur has inner demons that he’s wrestling with. So does his brother Charles. Charles prefers to handle it by letting out bloodcurdling screams as he literally marches back and forth raising clenched fists. His rage is more intimidating.
(Honestly, would you want to run into this shirtless badass in a dark alley)
I think they’re like most babies and that should concern all of us. In a world full of angry people, babies might be the angriest. And if one, or a couple of them, figure out how to organize, they might revolt and force us into a post apocalypse scenario. Think I’m reaching? Watch Planet of the Apes this weekend if you get a chance.
(Of course this scene would be slightly more appealing with a bunch of giggling babies)
What I’m saying is that we don’t act, these cute little bundles of repressed rage will lead us to Armageddon. We need to get them a fight club now. It’s simple. Babies have a lot to be angry about. Just off the top of my head, these are some of the things that I’m sure boils their blood.
The TV Remote
Just put the shoe on the other foot. You’re enjoying an episode of Big Brother. It’s a live eviction vote episode. Suddenly and without warning the channel changes to the Color Crew on Baby’s First TV. You begin to sob hoping that the human who made this poor program selection will reverse course but to no avail. No wonder my kids always want to hold the TV remote. They’re tired of having to watch black and white History Channel documentaries and The Real Housewives of New York and there’s nothing they can do about it. They’re helpless and their mad.
When I woke up this morning, I looked through my closet and found a shirt to wear that I felt the least fat in. I had a few choices. That’s the key word…choices. If I had no choice in the matter and was forced to wear a white t-shirt with red suspenders and a blue bow tie I’d likely be very pissed…and people at work would think I was having an emotional crisis. I know when we put these outfits on them, Charles was thinking, “I’d really rather wear that cool yellow Shark Shirt.” Sorry, Charles. We’re going to dress you in this unpractical outfit and to make matters worse, we’ll put your brother in the same exact thing. Can’t you just feel him seethe?
If you want to see a storm of bad feelings in its full fury come on over to my house at meal time. If the eggs are not at just the right temperature or the vanilla yogurt not at the right consistency there’s hell to pay. You can’t blame them. We’re feeding them eggs and yogurt. Doesn’t seem like those things should be part of the same meal. It’s not like we don’t give them a lot of different foods to find something they’d enjoy but you know what these kids want to do it swing on the fridge door like we do and say, “What do I feel like eating”? Once again, we’ve taken the decision making away from them and they’re less than pleased with out choices. Sounds like the basic cause of every revolution is history.
They don’t choose their bed times. They have no say on weekend plans. We take extremely entertaining items out of their hands for unreasonably thinking that an electric drill, fork or power strip might harm them. No wonder Arthur is beating the snot out of himself.
What I’m suggesting is one night a week we let them knock the piss out of each other to release all the mounting animosity. It’s also a way to keep them fighting with each other instead of turning against their parents. It’s how we’ve kept people down for centuries.
What’s the first rule of Baby Fight Club. I’m not sure yet. Talking about it is fine by me. For now, I’ll set the first rule, that it needs to start after their 1pm nap because that’s when I like to get my nap too. We start these fight clubs all over the world and we’re going to have happy babies not angry ones. Remember how happy Meat Loaf was in Fight Club?
This is the baby I want!!
Least Favorite Child Results
June 25 – Least Favorite is Charles. He’s so stubborn when he doesn’t want to eat something that when I came home and my wife was feeding him, she looked relieved. I think the source of her relief was that now that a witness was present she wouldn’t harm the little bastard.
June 26 – Least Favorite is Arthur. He’s the baby who always has the cough and sounds like the Depression Era consumptive baby. The pediatrician always says he’s fine, but Arthur’s costing me at least 20 bucks a month in gas for extra visits to the doctor.
June 27 – Least Favorite is Arthur. I have two snooze alarms. The one on my iPhone that goes off every nine minutes and Arthur every 17 minutes from 4:30am to 7am. Between those two and three hours it’s nothing but the sounds of alarms and tears.
June 28 – Least Favorite is Charles. He prefers to have a bottle all by himself as he walks around these days. If he goes missing I merely need to look on the ground and follow the trail of milk over the floor, carpet and dog.
June 29 – Least Favorite is Arthur. At what point is holding a one year old upside down detrimental to his development? It’s what Arthur demands at all time. A study is going to come out and some point and say that this either leads someone to become a genius or a serial killer. I’m on pins and needles.
June 30 – Least Favorite is Arthur. We’re traveling to Cape Cod and North Carolina for 9 days and I’m already anticipating Arthur being more of a problem. He’s going to be the fussy baby on every flight, while Charles sleeps without a care in the world.
Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles
Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two
Arthur – 20
Charles – 18
Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 327