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thinking and feeling. I don’t feel the urge to get other people to hear me. On the other hand, since I’ve been in sales, I’ve developed a more open nature. I would rather tell a joke than to say just about anything else. The jury is still out on how much the little buggers will resemble me. Will they ever say, “I will never be like my dad” like I did, like just about everybody I know has said at one point or another? Only time will tell. Nevertheless, I see glimpses of their development of being “mini me’s”. They are already more talkative than I am. I know when they are awake in the morning because I hear them talking. Sometimes, they just talk a lot; that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s just who they are and how they interact with each other being twins. Mortimer (not his real name) is already smarter than I am --oops! --- than I WAS at his age and he is reading at a higher level than I do...DID. Even Archibald (not his real name, either) is reading pretty well and his math skills are superior to mine at that age. At this stage in their seven year old lives, their emotional development is somewhat suspect, though most would say is totally age appropriate. Case in point, last week at dinner, I had had enough of their whining and general dislike of the food prepared for them. When I was a kid, I had to like

(and eat) everything placed in front of me. Ok, there were a couple of exceptions. One was cooked spinach, which looked like it was dragged from the bottom of the ocean and somehow made its way to my plate. Yuck!!! Double Yuck!!!! To this day, I still cannot eat canned spinach. Fresh spinach for salads is fine, but cooked spinach may very well be camouflaged whale regurgitation. I was never a big fan of cabbage either, but I’ve at least grown to eat it as an adult. Oh, and blue cheese... forget about it. That is definitely from a sick cow. No way! Well, I decided that I had had enough. SMM (Sergeant Major Mommy) and I were not torturing the boys with any exotic foods, much less cooked spinach. It was pizza and everyone knows that pizza is one of the four basic food groups along with coffee, ice cream and hamburgers. Condiments are essentially super foods, especially, catsup, but I digress. So I gave the speech I heard every day in childhood, and if it wasn’t every day, it felt like it. My voice was a little raised...ok, it was a lot raised. I rambled on about how SMM and daddy work very hard to earn money to put food on the table, yada yada yada. Unfortunately, my eloquent mad ramblings did not have the desired effect and the little

buggers didn’t eat anything. SMM sent them to their room. The good news is that they are only seven and so they have a limited attention and memory span. Within minutes, all was seemingly forgotten about the dinner table pep talk and they were playing in their room. The bad news is that daddy -me, moi, superhero -- felt bad about it, apparently worse than the little buggers did. Since it was my time to read to them that night, I sincerely apologized to them and said, “Sorry, I got frustrated since you didn’t eat…” Little Morty looked up at me and said, “Dad, you don’t have to yell at us.” I’m certain that I shrank in that instant to 3” tall. My dad and I never had that kind of communication. He never apologized and since I have always had low selfesteem, I never confronted him. That’s just the way it was. Things are different now. I don’t blame him. Wouldn’t you know, the day after this incident, Morty came home from school with a blank comic book. It was a project from class where he was supposed to write and draw the captions himself. Morty said that he was dedicating the book to me, his daddy. It seems pretty clear that the “mini me’s” I made are much better than the real me.

Jeff Jackson is a daddy, husband, writer, salesman and superhero-in-training. He actively supports men and daddies to be their best. After working in corporate America, a divorce and trying to pursue his lifelong passion of acting, life had different plans. Jeff became a daddy “later in life” and is now married to a wonderful wife and mommy to their twin boys. For the record, he did not have any gray hair before they were born! Check out his blog to get a glimpse of the trials and tribulations of raising twin sons. You can also connect with him on Facebook and on Twitter. multiplicity

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Multiplicity Spring 2016  

Multiplicity's spring issue is loaded with tips on keeping your family safe! From things to consider for sleepovers and summer camps, tips f...

Multiplicity Spring 2016  

Multiplicity's spring issue is loaded with tips on keeping your family safe! From things to consider for sleepovers and summer camps, tips f...

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