Wednesday nights are busy nights for my family. My daughter has singing lessons and gymnastics and it's also garbage night in our neighbourhood. Somewhere in there I'm supposed to get some school work done. Um...yeah.

But last night, while my wife took our daughter to her lessons and I was putting off my garbage responsibilities, I had a chance to just hang out with my son. He's a great kid and I really enjoy our one-on-one time. I haven't had enough of it lately and really look forward to being less busy so I can change that. Nights like last night make me realize how lucky I am to have him.

We have a new trampoline and I can't get in the door at night without his incessant pleas of "Will you come jump with me Daddy? Come jump with me Daddy? Please come jump with me? Just for two minutes? Pleeeeeeeeease???" He loves to jump with me because I bounce him high into the air and QUITE OFTEN he doesn't come crashing down on the net which surrounds the trampoline, causing minor injuries. Thankfully he's a rough and tumble kid and he bounces back and asks for more every time.

He's an extremely active little guy and there are times he drives my wife and I positively crazy. He's not a great listener and here's some advice for future parents-yelling and screaming don't make kids listen more and sometimes they laugh at your lack of composure behind your back. Please note, I never said I was perfect.

My wife has even resorted to reading books on how to parent boys. The latest is something called "The Way of Boys" and either they suggest more yelling or my wife hasn't had the proper opportunity to put new suggestions into practice. While researching this post I also found something called "Honey I Wrecked the Kids" beside her bed, so I now know that I can simply blame her for the behaviour of both children when it is to my advantage to do so.

About a month ago, my son got scared by something in his room at night. So, without warning, he decided he would take his blankets and pillow to the doorway of our daughter's room and sleep there. He says he feels more safe, but I suspect it's also an opportunity to stay up later than he should and socialize with his sister from the doorway. The socializing sounds a lot like fighting from downstairs and we just know he's abandoned the floor bed and has entered his sister's room and is tormenting her by playing with her toys without proper permission.

Unless we're prepared to carry him back to his bed 30 or 40 times a night (and we're not), no amount of effort can prevent him from sleeping in the doorway. For the time being we've given up on getting him back to his room and only hope that someday he doesn't ask to put up posters in the hallway.

This morning, he ran up the stairs while I was getting ready for school and said "Daddy, there's hockey on the TV, come!" We rushed down together and watched a few minutes of an old game that was being replayed. I noticed that he had carried his blankets and pillow down to the couch and there was a real chance that he had been up for hours. I asked him how long he had been there and he said "it was almost sunny" when he came down. Good enough for me.

He asked me if I liked hockey (he knows I do) and I asked him the same. He said he did. I said "then we both like hockey." He replied, "Just me and the boys."

I know what he meant to say. And I've been smiling about it all day.

I'm excited about today.

If you've read my previous posts you know this has nothing to do with sitting in a church for three hours (or however long modern-day services last, 20?). No, my daughter is in a singing competition today and I can't wait to take in the whole experience.

I know this is daddy talking, but my daughter has real talent. She loves to sing and has an unbelievable voice. She has poise (dare I say stage presence?) that I'd never expect in a seven- year-old.

Today, she will be singing Fergie's "Big Girls Don't Cry." I've heard her do this song about a thousand times. She's ready and will knock em dead.

People will often turn to me while my daughter is on stage and say, "I could NEVER get up on stage and sing in front of people...especially when I was seven!" I agree with them and the conversation turns to something else.

But I have a secret.

Not only could I have gone up on stage to sing in front of people, I DID sing in front of people!

I'll give you a minute to get over your shock.

Yes, when I was a little older than my daughter is now I was asked to compete in the Kiwanis Music Festival as a male vocalist. Looking back, I have to believe that I was selected based on the following:

1. I had one of the louder voices in the school choir for boys my age (note I didn't say "best")

2. Most boys my age sounded like injured squirrels when they sang

3. There weren't that many boys in my class

4. I didn't know enough to refuse the nomination

That said, I prepared to sing the song assigned to every competitor that year. The song was about a little mouse who ignores the warnings of an older mouse of the dangers of mouse traps and meets his end. Lovely stuff for kids huh? It's been nearly 30 years since I sang that song, but I can still remember every word...

Once a trap was baaaaaaited

With a piece of cheeeeeeeeese

It tickled so the little mouse it almost made him sneeeeeeeeeze

I'm cringing so I'll stop there.

Myself and another boy in the class prepared for a weeks and were even forced to build in some dramatic movement to hint at the violence of the scene.

More cringing.

We sang in front our classmates and the comments I received were universal, "Rick, you're definitely louder than the other kid." Clearly, I was ready.

The day of the competition I was surprised by how many other boys had been voluntold for this assignment. I wondered if they could match my volume level, did they have dramatic movements? It turns out they could and they did. One of the kids even looked like a mouse and I knew my day would not end well.

When it was my turn to sing, I was barely able to get a squeak out for the first line and by the time the word "cheeeeese" came along I was sure I would place last. I recovered nicely, but I knew that much like the foolish mouse, I had also met my end.

Well, just my singing career.