Put a Fork in Me — I’m Done

I think Tanner would agree with me when I tell you that he has had a pretty fun summer vacation up until this point. We have spent countless hours around water whether it’s been a pool, lake, the San Francisco Bay or Pacific Ocean.

We were in Lake Tahoe for the Fourth of July where we basically planted ourselves on a beach for four days. It was crowded as could be, but Tanner remained happy with a shovel and a deep hole dug at the water’s edge.

I enjoy taking him places where I know he will have a good time, and it’s easy to travel with him because he tends to just go with the flow of things. I always pack enough bedding so that in the evenings I can create a cozy nest for him to sleep in much like at home. He doesn’t need much when we travel — a few books, some of his best toys and a comfortable place to sleep at night will do. (OK, well, maybe some chicken strips thrown in there for good measure.)

Since I’m not working the official 9 to 5 job at this time, we tend to spend a lot of time together. The grandparents jump in on occasion, but for the most part, it’s Tanner and me hanging tight for the summer.

So I was pretty fired up this past weekend when we were offered access to a beach house located in Stinson Beach. For those of you from outside the Bay Area, Stinson Beach is located approximately 30 minutes north of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The particular area we stayed in is called Seadrift. It’s a gated community of homes with some directly on the beach while others back up to a man-made lagoon. We stayed in a house that backed up to the lagoon, which for Tanner is a highlight because the lagoon is full of crabs. One of Tanner’s favorite pastimes is catching crabs off of the backyard dock. He can occupy himself for hours as he checks his traps and moves crabs from one bucket to another, inspecting them as he does.

Have you ever experienced one of those days where you seem extra sensitive to your surroundings? For example, you’re eating lunch and the person sitting next to you is eating potato chips. Most of the time, this wouldn’t bother you and you probably wouldn’t even notice. But there are those days when each bite that person takes of the chip just floods into your eardrums and after a while, for whatever reason, it just starts to grate on your nerves.

OK… I think that may have been me on the last day at the beach. It’s wonderful to spend my time with Tanner. He is seven now and says the funniest things in all seriousness, and I find it pretty cute. Unfortunately, there are those days when he has so much to say and I’m his only outlet. Hold on. I take that back. Everyday he has a lot to say.

This past “potato chip” experience focused on the word “Dad.” Naturally, I hear him say it on a daily basis, and he says it a lot. Dad? Dad! Dad!? Dad. Dad. Dad. I hear it everyday. I appreciate it. I cherish it and I hope he always calls me Dad.

But on this last day, after days of hearing ‘Dad’ over and over again, I was done. My ears simply couldn’t handle hearing that high-pitched little voice of his saying “Dad” anymore.

Instead of simply telling him to put a sock in it, and boy was I tempted, I decided to lighten things up a bit and make a sport of it. Beginning in the morning I started to take an approximate count of how many times he said could say “Dad” in a single day.

Here’s how it went: I took “sample minutes” as separate data points and from there went on to create an approximate “Dad” average per minute. On average, Tanner says “Dad” about five times a minute. Doing the math that works out to 300 “Dads” an hour and estimating that Tanner is awake, and talking around 12 hours a day, we come to a total of 3,600 “Dads” per day.

Granted this is simply an approximation, but let’s say it’s a slow day and Tanner only says “Dad” 3 times a minute. That still works out to an impressive 2,160 “Dads” a day.

I will give the kid some credit. That is a lot of ”Dads” for a little guy to say, even if it were only done one day out of his life. Alas, that is not the case and now I’m starting to wonder if I should get the Guinness Book of World Records involved?

I’m over it as of today. I must have hit the reset button and once again my “ear force fields” are operational and the ”Dads” are bouncing off me. I guess like most parents I hit that point in time where everything our children do is amplified and drives us ding-dong.

I know I will always rebound but there are certainly those days when I feel like exclaiming to the world, “Put a fork in me. I’m done!”

Please tell me I’m not the only one who reaches this breaking point?

Signed,

Dad

Tagged as: summer