Long story, I’ll edit it immensely. Spritle Jr. is 15 weeks old and LOVES to splash. Because of this, I take off my shirt (long sleeve) and bathe him in my V-neck T-shirt.
Last night, I bathed him, dressed him and gave him his nighttime bottle. That’s it, ready for bed. Right? Wrong!! He lies there in the crib, looking at me and smiles – for a while. Sleep is not an option.
So he begins thinking… “What can I do now? I know, I can make noise and start to cry. Sure milk from the bottle is fine, but I want it from the tap. I’ll get dad to take me to mom.”
It works.
I carry him into the bedroom where mom is in bed, ready to sleep. As I enter the room, Spritle Jr. places his hand on my chest (remember the V-necked T-shirt?) and “nices” me. God, it’s great being a dad. Next, showing no concern for my well-being, he closes his hand into a VERY tight fist – pulling hair.
My first thought, “OUCH!”
My second thought, “Don’t scream!”
(I can hear other hairy-chested guys wincing. Ladies, imagine grabbing about 25 pubes and pulling slowly and steadily.)
Think. Think. How to get him to let go. Gently move him away from body. Nope, he clenches tighter.
Plead with him. He’s 15 weeks old.
Lean forward! The falling reflex will kick in and he’ll extricate his fingers from my hair to prepare. No go, falling reflex is met with the hold-on-for-dear-life reflex.
At this point, Mrs. Spritle is laughing (quietly) and tears are forming in my eyes.
Then it hits me! Start to pass Spritle Jr. off to mom. He’ll get excited about milk from the tap and let go. Nope.
I am at a complete loss. I’m not proud to admit it, but I was at such a loss for ideas, I actually licked the back of his hand and blew on it, hoping the cool sensation would cause him to remove his hand. Stupid idea.
Mrs. Spritle is beside herself watching me. I’m almost on my knees. My eyes are watering and I’m cross-eyed.
Finally, in his own good time, he eased his grip just enough for me to push him away and towards mom. I had her check his hands for “evidence” lest he put it in his mouth and suffer some sort of gagging hairball.
I had a red mark on my chest where his hand was pulling. When Mrs. Spritle saw the red mark, she got a bit serious and said, “I thought you were joking.”
My two options are to shave my chest or wrap his hands in duct tape right after his bath and not removing it until he’s sound asleep.