You’re wondering if I’ve gone crazy.  Done.  Perhaps I bought Rosetta Stone Swahili and learned it backwards? Alas, no.  Maybe you saw me lick that frog out in my backyard?  It was just that once. I swear.

No, just a parent of two-year olds.  It’s funny, the words you and your children end up giving things.  My husband, who was not blessed with kids until almost 40, would never have DREAMED he would be asking two little boys, his boys, if they would like some more bock-bock and doot-doot.

My husband is my rock, a force of nature, indestructible.  If I’m feeling blue, his smile, kisses, and hugs lift my spirits fast.  When I’m uncomfortable, a hand rub calms me down.  When he’s being ornery and I want to smack him HARD about the neck and chest, and he knows it, he gives me this grin that makes me feel bad that I, only seconds ago, entertained the thought of physically hurting him.  He is strong.  He can leap tall buildings with a single bound.  He IS Superman.


He walks in the door and his babies run screaming: “Hi Dada!” into his arms.


His babies crawl into his lap, give him a hug, a sloppy, wet kiss, and snuggle under his chin.


He sees the two of them playing together and one grabs the other in a bear hug and kisses him.

Then he goes from a boulder of steel to a grinning pile of gooey Daddy jelly. He sure likes those two. He tries not to be too proud, and is actually being quite modest when he calls his spawn: “the cutest kids in the history of ever”.   Having known him a few years before having children, and hearing all the stories from his wild days, it makes it that much sweeter and funnier to see him with the kids, and saying their words.  I love watching him play with them.  Seeing him with baby toys does something to me.

When my kids were about 14 months old, I wanted to get them some chicken nuggets from Wendy’s, ’cause yum.  So we’re in the car, I’m in the back teasing the kids, holding the nuggets, saying: “Do you want some bock-bock chickie chickie?” Over and over, because it made them giggle like crazy.  They went nuts over them. It’s funny, now anytime we go through a drive through, they both say at the same time in the creepy Village of the Damned Twin thing: “Bock-bock? Bock-bock?”  Luckily, it also means hamburgers and McGriddles.

At home, I wanted to see if they liked ketchup.  So I made some nuggets, grabbed one and said: “Ok, you take the bock-bock and put it in the ketchup and (going up and down) go doot-doot, doot-doot.”  Of course, they immediately started saying “doot-doot” and not ketchup.

My husband still laughs when he asks the kids if they want more doot-doot with their bock-bock, just like we both laugh when the kids say “bye, pee pee” when their diaper goes back on. While sometimes the stuff they do and say makes him shake his head, he realizes that sometimes you just have to go with it.  Like how recently, he gave up trying to get the kids to stop drinking the bathtub water after both of them had peed in it twice already.  They already went with the flow, now he is, too.