This is my son Hayden’s worksheet for Top Frog of the Week. He has been counting down the days to this since September. He wanted to fill out the form as soon as he came home from school today, even though his frog title is not official for another two weeks. As I went over to the table to view his hard work, I was somewhat bothered by his misspelling of my name–the only one he struggled with, apparently. Do you think six is too young for me to explain a Freudian Slip?
My son, Hayden (age 5 at the time), drew this picture in kindergarten last year. Along with it, he wrote: “In the spring, I go to the park. The park is fun. I go with dad and Owen.” My first reaction when I saw this was, “Yes! My sons are writing about the happy childhood I am trying to give them:)” However, then my neuroses kicks in, and I think: “Where the hell is my face? I take him to the park, and he doesn’t even have the courtesy to fit my whole head in the picture. And why do the kids look like killer zombies? Is this a window into his psyche? Wait. What the…Oh my God, I’m not wearing pants!!”
This is a drawing from my son, Owen (7 years). I think I look like the creepy man in the park you warn your children about. Owen is really bothered by the fact that I’m bald and has already told me he doesn’t think I’m good looking. Having kids is a real ego booster:)
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