A Honking Good Time
I don’t know if it’s because of the Ninja game or not, but the kids and I have developed quite a tradition of startling each other. It’s kind of a given that if one of us is in an unsuspecting sort of mood, one of the others will surprise him.
With the minivan, this translates to honking. If someone is inside the minivan, and one of us is walking past the front, it’s pretty much a certainty that we’re going to get honked at.
My oldest doesn’t like the honking. At first he tried his mom’s approach: “I just don’t like that. Don’t play that way with me.”
We just honked at him.
Then he tried giving us his disgusted look, as in “how could you be so juvenile?”
We honked at him.
Finally, he gave up resisting and embraced the silliness. By that time, the game had mostly run its course. It’s become fairly impossible to surprise each other by honking, and that takes the fun out of it.
The other day, though, I raised it to a new level. I heard him in the garage, so I grabbed the car keys and hit the remote that honks the horn.
Seconds later, he burst through the door, eyes wide. “Something’s wrong with the car! It. . .” He trailed off when he spotted me holding the remote and smiling.
“Really, Daddy? Really?”