Turn Tables

July 2, 2013

So the boy ain’t turning. We tried. I put my iPod up to Sara’s belly and played “Turn, Turn, Turn” by the Byrds. My mother-in-law had the idea of getting Alice to do somersaults to inspire revolutionary thoughts. Sister even gave a pep talk for good measure. Nothing.

The doctor tried. He spent a few minutes going Greco-Roman on my son trying to get him to do a gainer. As a counter move, baby slowed down his heart rate.

After their Peniel-esque showdown, our doctor referred to our beloved son as “a little punk”. I love our doctor, so I was cool with it. Even savored it a little. However, after that, nurse after nurse labeled the little guy a “stubborn child”. So after awhile, I started to get a little defensive. As we left, I felt the fetus needed a boost. “Haters gonna hate,” I told him.

There’s still time, but right now the guy seems comfy. So I’m resorting to what fathers have been doing since ancient times. I downloaded the Garage Band app and mixed together a rapstravangaza to convince him. Here are a few lyrics:

Little man, now let’s get hip to this

Listen and just flip to this

Now do a Romney flop and Mitt to this

Head down like a witness list

Now I know you’re chillin’ a la mode-ish life

Mission control is dishin’ out some cold advice

This is no time for Buddha on the lotus life

Overturn that dome and live the SCOTUS life

I wonder why it isn’t working? Maybe he needs a talk with Uncle Mark Wahlberg. Or maybe he prefers country music. Or loves conservatives? I guess haters gonna hate.



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