OK, so I didn’t say that in the last panel, but I did think it.
The odd thing about making up this little rhyme* on the spot is that the rhythm was very fast (my fault) and, thus, my brain could barely keep up. And so it came out, to my surprise, kinda mean. Good thing the boy doesn’t understand English… yet. My wife and I were just talking about starting to watch what we say. Well, what I say, since I’m usually the culprit. And it’s not just swearing, it all the inappropriate or nonsensical things, including my Mr. Potter impersonation from It’s a Wonderful Life.
* it’s sort of inspired by “As I Was Going To St. Ives” which I heard first on Sesame Street – here’s the video.
I’ve been including my kid in my MFA grad school work for the last couple of semesters. The first time he was just newly born so I would do a sketch of him everyday in a sketchbook to include my expanded family into my art practice. The following semester I tried to do the same but he was just moving too much to draw. So I decided to hold the pencil to the paper and have him move it, and then I’d make it into something. (You can see some examples here.) But that was getting harder and harder so, since he was doing pure mark making anyway, I figured I’d do the same. He would draw first, I’d go second making my marks fit with his. But after a time I figured that I’d switch the order with me going first and he going second, so my mark wouldn’t be constrained by what was already on the page. (The boy was already unrestrained.) You know what? There was little difference in the outcome. (Sorry. I know that was a lot of grad school mumbo-jumbo.)
In the time tween semesters, the boy became conscious of the fact that he was drawing, and was really digging it. So this time ’round I’m just having him draw, although many times he seems more interested in putting crayons in whatever Tupperware is strewn about the kitchen floor. The strip above is what happened the first time this semester………..except we were on the kitchen floor. It was just easier to draw us at the table.
Published September 5, 2011
If you’d like to hear my tales of baby proofing my studio,take a trip over to my blog.
This is pretty much as it happened, with a bit of editing, of course. What you don’t see the boy trying to turn over mid-change and putting his hands in the “danger zone” and his father’s frustration. Diaper changing used to be rather pleasant – singing, laughing – until he started moving. Now it’s toxic waste alligator wrestling.
(The whole “Charles Dickens” thing reminds me of Monty Python’s “Bookshop Sketch” from their Contractual Obligation Album, which is very similar in form to their famous “Cheese Shop Sketch.” If you’re this flavor of nerd, you need no further information. If you’re not, any explanation would seem like a colossal waste of your time.)
I am a complete wimp when it comes to getting in the water. It could take me a good half hour. As my nieces and nephews have know for years – “Do not splash Uncle John.” So I had no choice but to lay down the law with my son when we were in my brother’s pool this summer.
This was his third pool experience. The first was just having his feet in a friends’ pool in the late spring. He was kicking his feet and having a blast with this first-time experience, and was quite mad when his mean parents ended it. (He was equally mad when we stopped his other first-time experience of the day – eating gravel.)
His very first “swimming” experience was on the beach in Florida in the spring. He was naked and as soon as my wife touched his feet to the water, he peed.
Published August 22, 2011
A couple of weeks ago I posted a comic strip that wasn’t exactly clear about what was happening. This was to mirror my own confusion in said comic strip. And instead of just explaining it, I figured it’s be more fun to make it into a contest and see who could guess what the heck was going on.
If you haven’t seen the comic, here it is. Take a look at it, then come back. We’ll wait.
OK, so, I didn’t think it would be so easy to figure out that it was my kid messing with the toilet paper, so my wife had to move it…all of which I didn’t know. The first ten people who guessed this will get an original Dadding Badly drawing personalized to them. (And, just for fun, I’m going to have my son sign it too.)
The interesting thing is, no one got it completely right by naming the specific situation in which my wife moves the TP out of my son’s reach – it’s when she’s holding him…well, there’s no way to put this delicately…while she’s sitting on the toilet. (She actually moves it to the window sill, but it was easier to show it on the toilet’s tank.)
Here are the winners. Thanks to all who wrote in. (You can see all the guesses here as well.)
No commentary needed for this really…although I must say that it’s not easy to get those animals pieces in those animal holes. (I know. I tried. “Ages 1 and up” – yeah, sure. Tell me another lie.)