My Kid Keeps Inventing Ways Of Beating The Shit Outta Me

Posted by Big Daddy Paul in Malcolm Stories, Uncategorized

Our adorable little boy is a bit of a menace. When he was a wee little toddler, he routinely slapped Amy and I in the face, such that at one point I was afraid to have my face within arm’s length of him. He then learned how to bite. He would bite anytime and for any reason. Usually, he would get me when I wasn’t expecting it and in some bizarre spot that really hurt, like my back fat.  After finally getting over biting, he realized that he could use his fingernails as tiny little talons, and tried to remove most of the flesh on my face.  Then, he took up kicking. Now, he can punch. He has developed what some might categorize as a right cross, which by itself wouldn’t be that bad except for the fact that he has also developed a left roundhouse, which hits you when you least expect it. It hurts.

Sadly, each time he progresses through a phase, I am relieved and think, “wow, glad all that nonsense is over,” only to have it replaced by newer, far more dangerous behavior. I mistake his disinclination to use outmoded means of combat as signs that he is becoming a sweet little boy, when, in fact, he is just waiting to roll out the more terrifying weapons at his disposal. Silly me for thinking that my boy will ever be non-violent. I guess he has as much chance at learning to be a pacifist as I have of becoming a vegan.

Sometimes, I wish his arms and legs were always buried in the sand.

Sometimes, I wish that his arms and legs were always buried in the sand

Things are especially bad now that he has stopped taking naps.I blame it on his biorhythms being all out of whack, but at times, he completely loses it. The other day, he hit punched one of his best friends in the face for trying to take a turn at steering a trolley car at a park, and when I announced that we were leaving, he started hitting and kicking me. When I picked him up to put him in the car, he tried every trick he had in the bag to hurt me; luckily I am still larger than him, so I was able to restrain him and not take a licking. He is pretty cool most of the time, but when he doesn’t get what he wants, it is Hurricane Malcolm in all its fury.  I hope he gets adjusted to the new schedule soon, because I am afraid he is going to catch me one of these times and the damage will be significant. I’m not saying that I want my kid to be perfect, I am just hoping that one day I won’t live in mortal fear of him. Is that too much to ask?

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