My Shirt’s a Belly

It happened! It finally happened!

One day this summer, the most amazing thing happened. It’s the day that, almost as soon as a man finds out he’s going to be a father, he looks forward to the most. It’s not the birth of his beautiful child, or coming up with a fitting name. It’s not the first time that your darling son tries steak, or the first poop on the potty. It’s not the first day of school, the first haircut, or even the first time he looks up at you and calls you “Tatte”, “Daddy”, “Pop”, or whatever word you use in your family. No, this day is much more monumental than all of those combined. It’s a day that truly makes you realize that your son is growing up.

Like any father, I’d had enormous expectations for this event, but it turned out to be so much better than I’d ever imagined. I had anticipated some sort of gradual build-up to the big event, easing us both into the idea of it, but that’s not how it went down. The fact that it happened at Tevye’s birthday party made it all the more momentous.

I’m referring to the first time you, as a parent, embarrass your children in public. Not in a bad way, like you tell their friends an embarrassing story. No, you’re just goofing around, acting the same way as you do at home, and suddenly, in front of all their friends, your child sees you as a big dork. Anyone who knows me is only too keen to advise newcomers to my circle of ridiculousness that I fall well within the boundaries of “dorkus malorkus“, but for my eldest child to come to that realization, well, that’s a special moment in the life of any father.

It all came about quite innocently. For weeks leading up to the event, Tevye had been going around the house, lifting up his shirt(or just taking it off), and, to anyone within earshot, querying “Like my shirt? My shirt’s a belly!” Of course, being the dork that I am, I found this to be rather humourous, and would chortle appropriately each time the phrase was uttered. On occasion, much to the chagrin of the gals(yes, I used the word “gals”. Deal with it) in our house, I’d get in on the belly-shirt action. A good time was had by half.

And so it was, at Tevye’s sixth birthday party, all of us were running around a field by the beach, playing frisbee. I decided that this would be an appropriate time to start a rousing round of “Like my shirt”. Once the shirt was lifted, and I’d gotten half-way through my question, Tevye ran over as fast as he could, grabbed my shirt, and pulled it down, sternly looked at me, and informed me that this was inappropriate.

I told him that I was just asking if he liked my shirt, because MY shirt is a belly. He didn’t care for it.

I did.

He hasn’t managed to get embarrassed by our public “dork-off” competitions since then, but he’s young yet. I’m given to understand that as he gets older, it gets easier to be seen as a doofus in his eyes.

Saarah, on the other hand, is such a dork that I doubt I’ll ever manage to embarrass her. I may have to up my game.

The fake moustache was a part of all the kids’ treat bags at the party. All of us were running around with fake moustaches at the park. Even I had one, even though I have a real one attached to my face.

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Comments
38 Responses to “My Shirt’s a Belly”
  1. I wonder what my boys would say if I asked them if I ever really embarrassed them. I might just do that today – maybe I’ll even write about it.

  2. shinobiswordsman says:

    Already embarrassing at age 6? That’s quite an accomplishment. Good luck parenting, and congrats on being Freshly Pressed

  3. Jen says:

    It totally starts at 6! I’ve had the distinct pleasure of embarrassing my two oldest now for a few years, but have not yet crossed that border with my youngest (still 5). She till thinks I’m a goofball and enjoys every minute of it

  4. Marie says:

    My husband and children take great pleasure in challenging themselves to make me publicly uncomfortable. Unbeknownst to them, I take far greater pleasure in the game as my strait face tends to incite their nonsense. Somewhere beneath your son’s embarrassment is a genuine smile.

    Love that you doubled up your mustache. Priceless.

    • Oh, I’m sure that deep down he was smiling. He’s had no qualms resuming his belly/shirt questioning.

      The fake moustaches were a lot more fun than the one I’m sporting, so how could I turn it down?

  5. segmation says:

    Sounds like Moishe is lucky to have a father like you!

  6. Hey, Dorks are the new cool! Soon they’ll be the dorks and boy will they be proud of it!

    Fun post! ๐Ÿ™‚
    http://katieraspberry.wordpress.com/

  7. kapilbhardwajj says:

    Excellent Blog.. I like your way to write.. I bookmark your blog link. Keep updateโ€ฆ
    Im also write some blogs here is one of them ๐Ÿ™‚
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  8. Laura says:

    Interesting to read a blog by a stay a home dad!

  9. dallen4122 says:

    Ha that you sound just like my dad. He embarrassed me all the time and I’m 17

  10. It does get easier. As they get older it takes less and less ‘effort’ to make our children feel embarrassed about us until it gets to a point where our mere presence does the trick ;-).

    Great post!!!

  11. Sammy says:

    What a lovely humorous-wonderful post! Congrats ๐Ÿ˜Š

  12. Sammy says:

    What a lovely ,humorous post!Congrats๐Ÿ˜Š

  13. Tom says:

    Adorable. ๐Ÿ™‚

  14. Nate Pebbles says:

    I have a 3yr old and cannot wait til he is old enough to embarrass, mostly to get back at him for all the tantrums he’s pulled in public!

  15. Haha. Funny. I can’t wait until I have kids to embarrass.

  16. tbree1 says:

    Sounds like your son is gonna be in for a rough ride. lol!

  17. talkingants says:

    Great post Allah bless your son

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