High expectations

We firmly believe that good parenting means having high expectations, and that is part of the reason that dad is always competing to see who can be the most immature. It's not always clear whether Lil' Genghis is up to such a struggle, but we always hope for the best.

So, she's gotten interested in heights. One of her favorite things is being held horizontally, like she's flying. Even better is if she gets a chance to fly horizontally while being rubbed on the top of dad's head, preferably with lots of chances to pull his hair and rip his glasses off. She likes that, she does.

But all kids just like to go airborne, as Grandpa John will attest; he gave her some of her earliest bouncing, and she (and he) loved it. So now it's dad's turn for a while, and the rocket noises made a nice complement to the little lady's kicking off our bellies. She likes to fly.

So there we were the other day, in a less-than-optimum launch position suitable only for Alcantara explosions and drunken American astronauts, when inspiration struck.

What if we kept our high expectations for Lil' Genghis?

What if we reinforced the search for alternative fuels?

What if we found a nice way to let the little lady have some more fun?

What if we found a way to exploit some of the peculiarities of dad's side of the family?

And, what if, we found a way to help Lil' Genghis compete for immaturity simultaneously with dad?

This took careful moments of planning and countless microseconds of research. Ultimately, however, we think we answered all of the above questions.