I recently realized my husband is a child.
Ok, so not real recently. I've known this from early on in our relationship.
But the reality of the notion came crashing down when I walked in the [messy-because-we're-packing-to-move] apartment to see Harvey in his high chair, and Daddy was nowhere in sight. (After a recent choking incident, I'm neurotic about sitting next to him for the entirety of his meal...)
"Hello?" I asked, and just then I heard a little smack, saw Harvey make a face, and heard a wiffle golf ball hit the wall behind my son, and land in a stack of totes.
"Yes!" Came from the living room.
It was actually sightly humorous, but only because it wasn't an actual golf ball sailing toward Harvey's head, and John wasn't aiming for him...just the totes that lay a couple feet beyond him.