The Afternoon I Kicked Johnny

It rained all day today. 

The rain makes it difficult to leave our 750 sq. ft. apartment for a more open place to play. That small square footage can get boring after a while. When we can't go outside, the Kicker gets cranky, and I have to be creative when finding things to do. 

To combat the effects of boredom, I set up the Johnny Jump Up. This contraption clamps to the top of a door frame and has a baby seat at the bottom. Above the baby seat is a spring. This allows the baby to jump up and down in the seat. 

What Johnny doesn't tell you is that it's next to impossible to get a baby in the seat without the help of four other people. I stood next to Johnny Jump Up holding my baby under his armpits trying to position his feet into the two leg holes. When I swung the Kicker left, Johnny went right, when I swung him right, Johnny went left. 

This showdown went on for a while. With every second that passed, my patience grew thinner. When Johnny wouldn't cooperate, I sat the baby down away from the scene. I turned back to Johnny, stepped and planted my left foot in the carpet, and with a long swooping motion that would have booted a Super Bowl winner, I kicked Johnny square in the seat. 

It wasn't a malicious move. There wasn't hate involved. It was more to prove a point that I wouldn't be bested by a child's toy. 

As it turns out, I regretted that kick the second I made contact with the Jumper. I'm not sure when Evenflo started making their products out of titanium carbide, but my right foot screamed for mercy immediately. 

I tried standing up and acting like everything was cool, but I dropped to the floor with my head grimacing in pain right next to my seated child. He can't talk yet, but his face seemed to say, "Hey Dad, look at us! We're both on the floor together now." 

We left his bedroom and went into the living room. I started immediate medical treatment. 

Witness this: the only time broccoli gets used in this household.

As I continue to nurse my wounds - more pride than foot - the lesson seems painfully obvious: You can't be aggressive toward inanimate objects in front of your child. The kid has to see a dad who's more in control I think. Not my brightest moment, but hopefully the last like that.