...or at least that's what I think Emma and Andrew were thinking.
Before I get to why they thought I was a rotten bastard, I need to explain something. Time is a foreign concept now. I have a hard time keeping track of the days and where the hours pass. I don't know what bills need to be paid and I forget to cut my toenails. Days turn into months, and my toenails still aren't cut. And before you know it your kids no longer fit sideways in their cribs anymore (as well as my feet).
What I'm getting at is that even at this young age of almost seven months, the time flies by and sometimes you forget your kids are growing and developing. You often find yourself doing things they liked three months ago but now find extremely uncomfortable and annoying. Or maybe even your stupid antics around the house may eventually scare the crap out of your kids.
Ah yes...this is where we get to the rotten bastards part of the story.
When I'm at home, I have a tendency to be annoying. And by annoying I mean...well...really annoying. I like to repeat jokes over and over again until they're so unfunny they become slightly funny again. I like to make weird sounds (both oral and anal) on the sofa as Lisa watches her reality television shows. I also like to jump out of corners or suddenly appear in dark places to scare Lisa. This happens on a regular basis. It's a wonder I ever got married.
My tendency to do things over and over again is actually great with the kids. Whether it's a song, book, or jazz hands, kids like things to be repeated. Even before Emma and Andrew could really appreciate peek-a-boo, I would play it with them. I'd hide behind the sofa, a door, or Lisa's ass and jump out and say "Boo!" Sometimes they would smile, but most of the time they would just stare at me like the idiot people say I am.
Just last week, I came to the conclusion that the kids no longer like the way I was so used to playing peek-a-boo. How did I come to that conclusion? Because I made Emma and Andrew jump from the floor and cry bloody murder, you rotten bastard.
I swear I played the game no differently, but the reaction was very different. Andrew was first. I raised a blanket in front of me, dropped it, and then shouted "BOO!" And boy oh boy, did he cry. I might give him a break if instead of "BOO!" I shouted "I HAVE CANCER!" or "YOU'LL NEVER PAY OFF YOUR COLLEGE LOANS!"
As for Emma, she called me a rotten bastard on a different day. I had my back to her watching television, and then I turned around and shouted "HI EMMA!" Her entire body shivered -- especially her cheeks -- and then her eyes welled with tears before she let loose a bellowing "WAAAAHHH!"
Stupid me, I wasn't too sure if it was me or them. Maybe the kids were just tired. So I tried doing it to them again on a different day. Guess what? It's me...
So lesson learned for Scott Ichikawa. I learned that the kids are now old enough to crap their pants not only when they're full, but when they're scared. I may not be a perfect father, but I figure just like any other new dad you learn from your mistakes and try to be a little better every day. You just have to wake up and put on your pants one leg at a time...even if your long toenails make it a little difficult.
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