The Third Child

To those of you who think I’ll mourn the day that I didn’t give birth to a son, I have one thing to say: you’re wrong. Because I do have a boy; he just isn’t my flesh and blood. I began to raise this fellow at a relatively young age. And let me tell you something that every woman out there secretly knows: men rarely, if ever, grow up.

My dear husband still has a lot of child left in him. He sees the humor in most situations, is able to be silly with our children and doesn’t take life too seriously. Usually his insouciance is infectious and enjoyable to be around.

But not when I’m trying to be a parent.

Yesterday while at a museum he spotted these tall, concrete dividers lining the sidewalk. They were put there to protect the building from wayward drivers who might decide to storm the area with their cars. My husband, however, saw them as a perfect obstacle course from which he could spring, one to the other. (Mind you, it was totally icy and snowy so one slip would have been catastrophic.) He is more than six feet tall, so he could quickly skip across them without difficulty. I, a seasoned mother, however, watched in horror because I knew what would happen next. I glanced behind me and, sure enough, my concerns unfolded in technicolor. Our two young girls decided to play follow the leader. On the ledges. Only their little legs could not make the jump the same way their dad’s did.

“You’re a genius,” I said to my husband, who shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

He watched as they struggled to do what he had just done. “No, don’t do that,” he said to them.

Really?

“Dude, you can’t do something right in front of them and then tell them not to do it,” I said. “You either have to show restraint yourself or explain why it’s okay to do this when you’re forty-one and not when you’re five.”

As we debated dear husband’s brilliant move, my girls continued to try and vault themselves over the totally dangerous structures. Aimee fell but thankfully didn’t get hurt. Lily gave up when she slipped on the ice.

“Have fun at the emergency room,” I said waving behind me.