Spike

Diana and I have decided to attempt one last ditch effort to keep Luca out of a helmet for his head-flatness. Our flat-head expert said if we can keep him off his flat-head for the foreseeable future, there is still a chance it will round out. I like to think it will audibly “pop” like a dent in an old Chrysler.

Unfortunately, keeping him off his head ran counter to my Saturday laziness. Instead of tossing him in his bouncy chair and taking a well-deserved nap, I spent most of the day with him on my hip. At one point, I gathered Luca up in a Baby Bjorn, grabbed Elijah, leashed up the dog, donned my cowboy hat and went on a walk. I got ½ block from the house when one of my neighbors stopped me.

“Your son is wet, Cowboy.” I looked down and saw Eli had a front ocean. Walk aborted.

Thankfully, there was one stretch where both Luca and Eli were napping. And Diana too, but she doesn’t need diaper changes. Knowing I had exactly 43 minutes before one of the boys awoke, I decided to do one thing for myself: trim my beard. Springtime is when I transition from Hairy Winter Rick to Splotchy Summer Rick. I quickly buzzed my face with clippers. Just as I finished the South 40 Acres, I heard Luca cry.

I scooped him up and gave him a big, fat kiss on the cheek. After positioning us on the couch, I noticed that I forgot to brush all the tiny post trimming whiskers from my face. Several of which were now attached to Luca’s face. He looked like Snoopy’s brother, Spike.

Knowing a gross, fake dad beard wouldn’t add much to his self-esteem, I attempted to brush the tiny little hairs off. Those little jerks just wouldn’t come off. Blowing air at his face just made him laugh. Brushing the hairs with my hand just re-arranged the whiskers like a “Wooly Willy” game. And picking at his face with my fingernails just irritated Luca.

Finally after much ado, I knocked the whiskers off and breathed a sigh of relief. I then noticed Luca’s back, which was covered in whiskers. Which made him look like his dad.