Nash picked up the toy, reared back, and let it fly as he exclaimed, “HI-YAH!” The plastic figurine flew across the living room and hit his dear old dad in the side of the head.
More surprised than hurt, I turned to look at him. Either I scared him or he surprised himself with the trueness of aim because he looked at me with wide-eyed shock. And then with all the remorse his tiny, two year old body could muster, he apologetically muttered, “Sar-sar.”
Sensing that words weren’t enough, he walked over and gave me a slobbery kiss on the side of my face. “It’s okay, buddy,” I said as I gave him a squeeze.
Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he picked up the same toy off the floor next to me, gave me a side-eyed grin, and yelled, “hi-yah” as it flung it back across the room.