Decisions

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Every four weeks, Squirts and I head to Shannon’s place to get our hairs cut. Since Squirts started going to a salon instead of the local SuperCuts, we haven’t had any complaints from him on hair cut days. It may be that as one of the first clients in the shop, Squirts has the undivided attention of Shannon (or as Squirts has named her, “Queen of the Hair Place”) and two or three other ladies who happen to be in that early. I’ve heard that little boys don’t like to have their cheeks pinched and be fussed over—you couldn’t prove it by my kid.

On the other hand, it could be that our monthly ritual also includes a stop at the donut shop after our hair cuts.

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My son’s bowels have an amazing ability to know when we’ve left the house. It’s as if they have some sort of GPS system that lights up as Squirts moves away from our home. It’s seems like the further we are from our house, the more likely they will need to, uh, move. In the year and a few months Squirts has been completely out of diapers, we’ve seen the inside of more department store, grocery store, coffee shop, ice cream shop and mall restrooms than I’ve probably seen my whole adult life.

A few months ago, Squirts and I were on our way to church. Squirts’ mom had already been there for several hours because she leads the worship arts there. On this fine Sunday morning, about halfway through our 30 minute drive to church, Squirts announces his need to go poo-poo.

After a quick glance to the back seat, I recognize the wide-eyed look that says without words “ AND NOW!” (Squirts bowels also have a certain sense of immediacy when they make their presence known.)

Visualizing the path to church, I remember a gas station and a Starbucks at the next exit.  Form past experience, I know that Squirts is very comfortable with the ambience of the Starbucks’ facilities, so that’s the direction we head.

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At our house, we have recently graduated from Diego, Dora and Oswald cartoons to anything featuring a superhero.

Cue the “Hallelujah Chorus!”

I get the value of Diego, Dora and all their little friends for young children. I really do. (Though, don’t get me started on Oswald and his dog “Wienie.” What were they thinking?) When you compare the head pounding, foot stomping, hair pulling cartoons of my day to the problem solving, environmentally aware, multi-cultural cartoons of today, there really is no comparison in the educational value.

Entertainment value is a whole different thing.  After a couple of episode of Dora, I’m the one doing the head pounding, foot stomping and hair pulling.
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Bear