#83

One of the myriad things I love about being a dad is getting to re-examine all the rules I have made up for myself, or taken on because of my socialization. Remember the jingle "You can't have cookies for breakfast, but you *can* have Cookie Crisp"? It took me 30+ years and two little boys to make me realize that that is utter B.S.



You can TOTALLY have cookies for breakfast.



You can also have cheese for dinner. Just cheese, no crackers.



You can squeeze four people into a queen bed. Every night, between the hours of 3 and 5am.



You can turn your apartment into a jungle gym, play drums on ANYTHING, eat dirt, dump an entire tub of water on the bathroom floor (that why it's made of tile), and if you make something cool, you can tape that shizz RIGHT ON THE WALL.



There are some new rules, though, that I have been forced to learn. For Isaac's last birthday, I asked Jack if he wanted to make something for his brother. He thought about it for a minute, and then his face lit up as if he had been visited by a divine revelation. He then climbed up into my loft bed (where he creates all of his best art) and made this:

This is a Pig-Eating Monster. Yes, that is the little piggie's tail protruding from the monster's mouth, and that talk-bubble is the pig's final words: "AHHHHH"

The Monster, for it's part, seems to be saying "GKG", which I suppose is either the sound of furious chewing, or means "Yum" in Pig-Eating Monster speak.



Jack proceeded to make pig-eating monsters for many other people on their special days. It became quite a thing. When Rebecca suggested that Jack incorporate this theme into his Christmas missives, he was shocked, and not a little disappointed in her. He sadly shook his head and said "Mom...Pig Eating Monsters are for birthdays."

I can live with that. Pass the cookies.