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What Happens in the Bathroom… Ends Up in the Blog September 11, 2008

Posted by TimTheFoolMan in Parenting/Children.
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This morning, after letting the dog out for his morning ritual, I decided to go to the bathroom myself. This is not really something earth-shaking or momentus, because it’s not that unusual for a middle-aged man to make an early morning trip like this, but it caused me to do  something that I rarely do, and something I’m unlikely to do in the near future.

I went into a bathroom used almost exclusively by a teenage boy.

The Violent Chess Match in a New Venue?

The boy in question is my son, of course, but even living with this person did not prepare me for what I witnessed. I was prepared for the dried toothpaste encrusting the sink. I was prepared to find the wiring to the iPod speakers strung along the back of the sink, and around to where they were sitting on the lid of the toilet tank. I was even prepared for the pile of clothes that appeared to have everything he’d worn prior to showering for at least a week, including tennis shoes.

I was not prepared to see a football helmet.

Now, around our house, football season lasts 12 months. It has been this way since my older son was 7 years old, and started playing Pee Wee football. Impromptu blocking and tackling lessons seem to happen most anywhere in the house (except the kitchen, where nothing is allowed to interfere with the consumption of food), and these sessions have become more violent as the boys’ have grown to be roughly the same size as I am.

Football has been called “The Violent Chess Match” because the layers of strategy approximate the game of chess, but the participants clearly don’t behave in the manner of chess masters, calmly taking turns in a quiet, sedate setting. Recognizing this, football-related drills seem to happen randomly around our house, sometimes lasting seconds, and sometimes extending on for several minutes. (The length of time is generally determined by how long my strength and will hold out, since both of the boys have long-since passed me in upper and lower-body strength.)

Flushed from the Pocket

As I stated above, the kitchen has been off-limits for most of this activity, as the three of us have generally agreed that food must take priority. Prior to this morning, I would have thought that the bathroom was another room where football would not be practiced, but finding a helmet there caused me to think otherwise.

Naturally, this required some investigation, so before leaving for work, I woke up my younger son and asked, “How violent is a trip to the bathroom that you needed to take your football helmet in there?”

Sleepily, he replied, “Dad, you have no idea.”

I accepted this answer, closed the door, and went out to my car. I’m pretty sure that I don’t want to know.

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Comments»

1. Paladin - November 18, 2008

I’m not sure we needed to know. ;^)


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