2 Foot Ninjas (Baby Don’t Hurt Me)

It might strike you as odd, or untruthful, if you’re a new father, but the most dangerous object in your home is your new little bundle of joy. The list of injuries sustained throughout my life of fatherhood over the last twenty years are numerous, sometimes humorous and often quite painful.

And those are the physical injuries. The mental and emotional ones will come and leave longer lasting impacts and deeper scars. And believe you me they will come. Those moments that your children rip your heart out, unintentionally for the most part, the moments of abject terror that burn their way into your psyche, the aches that the sheer intensity of your affection for them will cause. All of these maladies of their own, all of them leave lasting impacts.

The most recognizable is the broken nose. My oldest is the perpetrator of this assault. After a long day at work I laid down on the floor in the center of the living room to accompany my newly toddling toddler. She chose this moment in her life to turn daddy into a sentient obstacle course. It was somewhere between acutely alert and sound asleep I felt the shadow creep over me. The light from the windows faded and I opened my eyes to find her straddling my head attempting to walk over me. It was this exact moment she decided that this is a great place to take a rest and dropped like a rock.

For new fathers, pay attention, most babies are fluffy, cuddly bundles of milk formed fat covered in a thin. layer of drool, baby powder and Cheerio crumbs. This is their disguise. There are weapons hiding within this comforting form. One, as I’m getting to above, is their tail bone. Having formed quite well and being perfectly aligned with the bridge of my nose, this protrusion served perfectly in robbing me of an, until then, delightfully straight nose.

That’s one. I won’t enumerate them all because this would go on for days. There are lego traps, everyone knows these. You’re creeping through the house at night to get what’s left to eat in the pantry (nothing) and have some milk (none) and possibly get a few moments of peace (can’t) when you tread upon a field of errant toys. Now, manufacturers will tell you these toys can’t injure kids. I’ve found that to be true, though if placed strategically on the floor can result in various injuries ranging from aggravating to excruciating. Wheeled ones will send your knees bending in ways that make contortionists queasy. Stuffed animals are perfectly situated to slide from beneath bare feet. Then there’s the sound producing ones that are quiet enough in daytime, but at night shriek loudly enough to wake the entire neighborhood.

Additionally, this is where children learn the first words you don’t want them using. They’ll likely stumble over mama or dada, but obscenities are somehow preprogrammed into them from birth.

There are head butts. Their smile vanishes instantly and a 10 pound mass of bone can, and will be hurled into your own face with painful, if not disastrous, results. You may have played football. You may be an MMA fighter. You will NOT be able to withstand the pain that this delivers. Because most of the time it is when you’re half asleep and unable to tense, prepare, shield, or otherwise dodge. Sleep assaults are the worst. It’s one of the tools of the neo-ninja.

Then there’s the worst. These little bundles of joy love to be held. And in their ninja ways, they’ll lull you into complacency with their cute little giggles and gurgles and laughs. And you’ll play and play and before long you’re unaware that you’re holding a WMD (Weapon of Masculinization Destroyer). They’re little legs are muscled like a bodybuilder, yet covered in a stealthy layer of fat. Their short length means that they are mechanically built to deliver that stored power instantly and with deadly efficiency. This invariably comes when you’re holding them in front of you, guard down and exposed. Simultaneously, every male reading this cringed. That’s because their little feet are clubs that can deliver a blindingly painful kick into your nether reasons. It might be considered ironic that newborns are the best form of birth control. You have been warned.

Those of course, are the physical. There are more tools that these little assassins use to break you. They’ll destroy you a thousand times a week emotionally and mentally. Fatigue and exhaustion are some of their tools. They’ll wear you down to the point you don’t think you can function. They’ll exhaust every ounce of your patience at times. They’ll steal your time and your money.

And you’ll thank them.

Because the most masterful trick of the ninja is they’ll dismantle the very man you were. The man you were will be vanquished and in his stead will be a man you scarcely recognize. They’ll break you down a hundred different ways and reform you into something totally different. But something you’ll like much more despite how unrecognizable you are to your former self.

Battered and bruised, broken and broke to be sure, but smiling in spite of all that. Because, like any true assassin, they know to go for the heart.

And balls, never forget the balls, guys. It hurts.