Smackface

Dad, let's play Smackface.

Um, what? 

Smackface.

What's Smackface?

These were the last meaningful words between the Boy and I last night.  My plea for clarification warranted no verbal answer, apparently.  Looking back, I suppose I walked right into it.  As The Parent,  it was really my fault that his lip was bleeding after he abruptly headbutted my chest. 

I know what you were thinking.  That Smackface would perhaps be a board game, right?

Kidding.

Although, you probably thought that maybe he had reached up and smacked my face.  I bet you would've never guessed that Smackface means he was planning on Smacking his own Face into my unsuspecting chest as he stood on his bed.  Sometimes I just don't understand how his little genius works.  I said nothing to him after he reeled backwards, but my eyes, I'm sure, said What the H Were You Thinking??  After we finished icing his lip in silence, he went to bed, likely thinking the same thing.

Other than his baffling act of self-punishment, it has been a rather uneventful January week.  I blame the weather.  I heard somewhere - probably the 4 minutes of local news I caught between cartoon viewings - that, according to Science, yesterday the 17th was the saddest day of the entire 2011 calendar year.  There are apparently highly educated scientists that got paid to figure this out - a combination of coldness and heighth of the sun in the sky and length of day and distance from Christmas, all culminating in a perfect storm called "the third Monday of January really sucks."  Not even kidding.  There actually exists research that says the 16th is kind of sad, but nothing compared to the forlorn wasteland known as the 17th.  And today, the 18th?  Well, according to Science, we're all starting to feel approximately 24 hours better about life.  I suppose. That's good.  Hooray.

Thank you, Science. 

It needs to be said that the study proclaims June 17th the happiest day of the year.  Seeing as that is close to Father's Day and also my wedding anniversary, I'm pretty sure I'm obligated to agree.

But alas - in staying on the topic of Smackface - back to January.  Even though I'm now several hours happier than I was scientifically allowed to be yesterday, it's still too cold outside to do anything productive like "Get the Mail" or "Inhale" or "Live", so we're mostly hibernating. 

Although, I did I read an article last week (summarized as the "top ten ideas for indoor fun in Minnesota when you're in denial about your true desire to live somewhere other than the barren tundra,") and it listed all sorts of interesting things to do in order to help convince yourself to not just pack some sandwiches and point the van south.  

The Boy and I bundled up and ventured out last Thursday to one of these ideas - the Minnesota Children's Museum in St Paul.  We spent the day with several other runny-nosed toddlers and pre-schoolers pretending to be ants and construction workers and thunderclouds and bus drivers and boat operators.  We even got to pet a live rat.  (Don't know why I felt compelled to clarify that it was a live rat - as if there usually exists an option to pet a dead one except on special days).  All in all, it was a very fun day and I'm super glad we went. The Boy is the perfect age for this particular museum; any younger and he wouldn't "get" the activities, any older and he would find them to be pretty lame.  But at age 5, he squealed with delight at every display of oversized adventure we discovered. 

Here he is, crawling through the giant ant farm.  Notice the extra creepy ant head staring at him. 

 

And, here again, hard at work organizing the wall-mounted bead track.  This was my favorite part, because it lasted a half hour and had a couch next to it. 





And finally, a picture of his hand and others actually touching a rat.  This led to a conversation about why this particular 'mouse' got to be fed and petted and loved while the mice at home were ruthlessly hunted, killed and tossed into the garbage on a regular basis.  Okay, so he didn't use those words exactly.  But he was definitely perplexed. 

And thus goes winter for the Boy and his family.  If anyone has other ideas for fun (and dirt cheap) things to do this time of year that don't involve parkas (or bleeding), I'm all ears. 


Parenting tip:  Don't play games called Smackface.  Or Punchgut or Kickshin or Burnhouse or Throwknife or Windowsmash or any other combination of violence and sharpness for that matter.  5 year old boys will want to try it.  Just don't do it.  You'll end up playing Doctor next.  I'm positive there's a research study that explains why if you don't believe me.