Flippin' Sweet

[Note: This post is by daddy.] 

One of the joys of twin toddlers is their willingness to wrestle with dad despite having a notable height, weight, and strength disadvantage. This permits me to emulate professional wrestling maneuvers that would otherwise require muscle mass extrinsic to my body. The boys' (and my) favorite moves involve me flipping them, such as with the "360 Daddy Bomb" that I debuted today.  I pick them up as in a typical jacknife powerbomb, but instead of dropping them immediately on their backs, I rotate them 360 degrees before plopping them down onto our pillow-covered couch. 

But our flipping fun goes well beyond that single move.  Sometimes while the boys are playing on the couch, I'll position myself on the floor so I can flip them over the edge when they lean towards me.  Or I will lie on the floor with my legs on the couch for the boys to climb onto; once aboard, I'll raise my legs, causing them to slide and flip onto my chest.  In both cases, the boys immediately jump back on the couch to repeat the process, laughing the entire time.  Also, when we play "One, two, buckle my shoe" I'll give them a good flip when I reach the "nine, ten, do it again!" part.  They love that.

Although these aformentioned moves are the most thrilling, the most nostalgic maneuver in my repertoire is something I dub the "Daddy Attack."  Down on my hands and knees, I lock my eyes on a boy and begin to slap the ground with my right hand to notify them that the Daddy Attack is imminent (after all, with a move this devastating, it is only fair to give them warning).  Then, with a sudden burst of speed, I lunge towards them and tackle them with my shoulder.  For added effect, I'll pull their legs towards me as I push them over.  That classic, which I've employed since they could barely stand on their own, always brings a tear to my eye.  And someday, when the boys grow up and redefine "Daddy Attack," I may end up with more than one tear.