Smart Kid

He is my 6 year old. He is absolutely precious. He is smart beyond his years. He is a perfectionist, and a border- line neat freak. He was coloring between the lines at an early age, cause he knew it looked cleaner that way. He sleeps with 7 stuffed animals every night. These animals are known as his entourage. If they are not in his bed, he will not sleep. I have spent many bedtimes in search of one or two members of the entourage that had gone missing. He has names for these animals, but I do not know which animal is which, so when he says Puffers is missing, you had better bring him Puffers. If you try to pass a non-entourage member off as a member, he will kill you with his glare. It is a confusing ordeal, as there are about 30 different animals to choose from, but only a select few are in the entourage. Kyle has been wearing glasses since he was 4. He has Asthma, and allergies, and has to use an inhaler. This kid, as cute as he is, is just a pocket protector away from being a geek. I mean this in appearance only. To those pocket protector people out there, I apologize if I offended you. Pocket protector people are people too.

Mr. Solo is a bit wound up. I blame this on my wife, because the stories of her childhood are such that she was wound up. Me, I was the forgotten middle guy. I hung out in a corner by myself. There was no wound up in me. This did not happen until I was older. Anyway, Kyle is in Kindergarten, and he is the smartest in the class. Nobody told me this; I just know it to be true. I know it because this kid is smarter than me. He has been playing me since he was born. He knows every angle. He knows every button to push, and when to push them. He knows how to cheat at every board game, and he knows how to cheat in sports. Somehow, he is never out when we play baseball. He always hits a homerun. Even if I tag him, he claims I missed him. When we play hoops, he is constantly getting three pointers. He is no- where near the three point line, yet he counts them as three pointers. In football, I tackle him, but he gets up and keeps running.

How does he do all of that? It’s because he is smart. He knows that I will let him, because the alternative is not for me. The alternative is crying and whining, and that I can’t do. I know I am pushing for dad of the year, but my kids own me. I do anything to prevent tears. Kyle knows that, cause he’s smart.