Kaleb and Steve by: Steve

Since the grueling summer season at the Jackson Hole Playhouse has reached its flaming end (no offense to those in theater who actually are "flaming"), my son and I have had a lot of time to get to know each other again. Prior to the end of summer, I was the mysterious man he would see occasionally sleeping in bed next to mommy. Otherwise, I was always on the go and spent time with him during intermission of our show. That sometimes was awkward because I am also a competitive UNO player, and it wasn't uncommon for cast members to engage in a game of UNO during intermission. Despite his young age, Kaleb is quite adept at playing UNO. However, his version is different from ours and he likes to wet himself during play. Kind of brilliant really that he uses his body fluids as a diversion so he can then rifle through the other players cards while they are distracted. Anywho, this past week we have had a lot of time together and I've made some startling discoveries. 1. Kaleb pretends to eat. It's weird. I'm the parent and I know the kid hasn't eaten anything in hours. However, when we stop playing long enough to eat,(which is NO EASY TASK) he looks around earnestly at what he can point to that will get my attention away. While I turn to see what it is he has just gasped and pointed at, he moves like lightning. Although high-chair bound, his hands are strangely agile, and ambidextrous. He empties his plate into his lap and replaces it in the exact spot it had previously been in. I turn back around, after realizing that what he pointed at in horror was actually a ruse, to find him smiling quietly and patting his hands together innocently. I see his plate is empty and like a gullible moron I exclaim, "good boy! You ate your food." He smiles even wider and raises his cute, chubby arms for me to lift him from his high chair and let him resume playing. I lift him from his chair and hold him close and when I let him down to play, I suddenly realize all the food that had been hidden in his lap is now plastered to my shirt. I look to where he now is standing and for a brief moment it seems that his little baby hand is giving me the finger. But, then he giggles sweetly and runs away. 2. Kaleb likes to say "potty." He is learning how to recognize bowel movements prior to them ending up in his pants. He has also learned that "false alarm" bowel movements are a great way to spend a few hours watching daddy act like an idiot. He looks at me with big eyes, and in a tiny "elfin" voice says "potty." The alarms start to go off. I race him to the bathroom, get his shoes and pants off. I hurriedly remove his diaper and check to make sure that wasn't a premature missile launch already exhausted in the diaper. All clear. I hoist him up on the toilet, making sure his puffy infant toilet seat has been placed on top of the toilet seat so he doesn't have to do the splits while pushing out a loaf. Once in place, I keep one hand on him and step back to see if it worked. He smiles at me, and then stares blankly. Then what he does would make even the most seriously trained actor blush in envy. He pretends to poop. I don't know how, and I don't know why..but he does. He grunts and groans, he sways vicariously. Tiny beads of sweat emerge in his forehead. I think to myself, for all that's holy he is going to be dropping the mother load. Then as quickly as it began, it ends. He smiles brightly and waits for me to "pretend wipe" him so he can be redressed, returned to his play area, and wait do the whole thing again in five minutes. You wouldn't think I would fall for it again, but I do. He's good. Real good. Sometimes he can even make his eyes roll like he is going to pass out because his poop is so big. 3. Kaleb kicks chickens. I know, PETA is probably already met with lawyers to file a law suit. Our landlord has chickens on the property. Kaleb likes to follow them around and wave to them. Sometimes he laughs at them and tries to get them to chase them. And other times, when the chickens least expect it. His little infant size 7's give them a nice "cock-a-doodle-doo." He baits them with harmless cuteness. They slowly come over for a closer inspection. "Who is this darling boy?" they must ask themselves. Only when they get too close, Kaleb gives them the old Chuck Norris. It's frightening and at the same time engrossing. Kaleb has a system to his play. At first you think the kick is random. Then as you spend the next hour studying his moves and tactics, you learn he is a genius. Like a black widow spider or a Maltese falcon, he toys with them and then he destroys them. So, now that I have had a few good days spending a lot of time with Kaleb, I've come to realize that every time Kat told me, "Kaleb was so difficult today" it wasn't because she is a new mother and is developing more patience for a harmless babe. It is because our son is actually a devious mastermind. There. I said it. Of course I love him, but no more "accidental kicks in my groin" while we wrestle. He knows what he is doing. No more "running away with dad's credit cards from the wallet he was playing with." He knows what those are and his little scribbles in his coloring book could just as easily be my bank account information he is saving for later. And to think. We have a second one due in January. What have we done.