New post at Improvising Fatherhood…it involves ninjas!
In every father-son relationship there comes a time when the son rises up and overcomes the father. This usually takes place when the son finally beats his dad in a game of one-on-one basketball. In less pleasant situations it involves the son actually beating up his dad during an argument…or a lightsaber duel. For me it was when I defied my father and stopped parting my hair on the side just like him.
I think every father enjoys watching his son grow up to be strong and talented. At the same time I think all fathers secretly fear that time when their son will be able to overpower them. Looking at Chandler now, I can already tell he is well on his way to this point. When he was born he was 9 pounds 3 ounces. Both Ashley and I were tiny babies. In the hospital, when I was born, the nurses nicknamed me Peanut because I was the smallest baby there.
And in just 7 short weeks Chandler has gained more than 2 pounds. He now weighs in at 11 pounds 8 ounces and is 22 inches tall. He’s a monster! Not only that, but he has already developed freakishly strong legs. He can’t balance himself yet, but as long as he has someone to keep him from falling over, he can stand and hold up his own weight. Sometimes when I sit him on my lap he almost launches himself off of me with his freaky man legs.
Bottom line: I’m scared. So I’ve decided I need to take drastic measures to ensure that Chandler isn’t having his moment of triumph over me on his first day of school.
What am I going to do? I’m going to become a ninja. If I had it my way I’d become a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. But I’m way past my teen years and really don’t want to go back there, my wife really doesn’t want me to become a mutant, and that “I like turtles!” zombie kid is still out there and that freaks me out.
So I’ll settle for just a ninja. Now some of you out there might be wondering, “Nate, why a ninja? Why not something like boxing or better yet, kickboxing? Or…Or! Even better…slap fighting! High school cheerleader style slap fighting.” I see where you’re going with that line of reasoning. Training to be a ninja is pretty hard. I mean, first of all I’ll have to find a 4 foot tall mutated sewer rat who is a master ninja to train me. I checked the phone book and there wasn’t really a section for that.
The problem with boxing or kickboxing is that no matter how good you are, at some point someone who is bigger and stronger than you will come along and you won’t be able to stop them. And as far as cheerleader style slap fighting goes…I’m just not tough enough.
I’m already pretty sure Chandler is going to outweigh me before his age hits double digits. Of course that is partially because I often have a can of Mt. Dew as an entire meal. But as a highly trained ninja, I wouldn’t need to worry about being weaker than my son. When I sense that he is becoming defiant, I will use my ninja skills to sneak up behind him and stab him. Or if he ever tries to attack me, I’ll throw a bevy of ninja stars at him to hold him off as I run away and hide. Victory is mine!
Of course, a true ninja learns how to avoid a fight rather than get into one. So using my ninja skills I plan to avoid my son for most of his formative years.
If you don’t see me for a while, it’s because I’ve run away to Japan to join a criminal gang and then get arrested only to later be discovered by a ninja master, posing as the right hand man when he is actually the master, who helps me find my way and trains me in the secret arts of the ninja while we slide around on a frozen lake.
Tell my son I love him.
