Sunday, March 15, 2009

Boys' Day: Monster trucks and black eyes

March 14, 2009 was a "boys' day, Daddy!" I had arranged for the Dunham boys to join friends who also have 4 year old boys to attend the Monster Truck Jam at the Idaho Center. Heather was appalled at the prospect of getting in touch with your inner Mullet and declined to participate; however, Ethan looked forward to the event for weeks. He would say things like "I think the trucks are there already, Daddy. Let's go check!" This was two weeks before the show.


Yesterday, he was up early for a Saturday because he was so excited. Daddy and Ethan enjoyed tacos for breakfast. It was, afterall, a boys' day. We ignored his mother's carefully chosen and ironed fashion selection for Ethan. What boy in his right mind would wear ironed cords to a Monster Truck Jam? Ethan said, "sheesh" and chose Levi's. Secure in our wrinkled Levi's, we departed at 11:30 to meet AJ LaBeau, Joe Kreizenbeck, and Zach Eaton at Wings near the Center.

All was well in the private back room with the free Wii game until we were booted to a smaller table due to a scheduling conflict. The four boys decided to play Foos Ball, and Ethan suffered the indignity of a younger girl slamming one of the Foos Ball rods into his eye causing an instant black eye and cut which is darkening today. As we left the place to head to the Monster Truck Jam, Ethan told me "we're never coming back to this place. I don't like that girl." We assured him this wasn't likely his last black eye in a bar from a girl. The picture at the top of this post shows the immediate aftermath.

Arriving at the Monster Truck Jam, we settled into our seats, and the boys' eyes were almost as big as the wheels on the monster trucks. We plugged our ears though I had to hold my hands over Ethan's until we purchased the $20 earphones shaped like monster truck tires. The show was OK, but the highpoint for each generation in our group was the motocross dudes whose jumps and stunts were amazing. As we left, Ethan assured me he needed a "ramp and a red motorcycle" so he could "go higher and higher." Later that night, he confirmed to his mother and me that he intends to produce a "motorcycle show every night -- but not school nights -- and every morning in the church parking lot" behind our house. With that future in mind, I fear the black eye will be the least of the residual ailments stemming from what was really a perfect boys' day.

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