Yankees

There’s a story in the Hamann folklore that goes as follows:

When my twin and I were babies, my father was holding us in each arm while walking down the stairs. According to my dad, Steve and I decided simultaneously to grab giant fist fulls of his awesome 1970's chest hair and yank them out. Dad was paralyzed with pain and unable to do anything about it without dropping a baby.

That story is called “Foreshadowing.”

Anyhoo, I took the early shift with Elijah this morning. I scooped him up and sat on the couch for a game of “You’re Standing!” Which involves standing him on my knees and shouting, “You’re standing!”

Suddenly, Eli reaches down and grabs a huge handful of my chest hair and yanks. Hard (No, I wasn’t nude. I was wearing my old man robe. Get your head out of the gutters.). I squealed like a little girl. Which delighted my son to no end. He’d yank, I’d cry, he’d yank, I’d cry. Apparently it was a much better game than “You’re Standing.”

Eli also grabbed a fist full of Grover’s beard and yanked that too. Grover took it like a man. He just looked at me as if to say, “Don’t put this in your blog.”