Lessons in Manhood from Prince Hal

My children teach me many things, my youngest, Prince Hal, sometimes more than his share. Prince Hal is our 18 month old son. (For an insightful, independent description of his personality, click here) As time goes on, I get the feeling he is becoming a man before my eyes. It seems young Hal has surpassed both his older brother, EJ (see the same post for details on his personality) and yours truly on some basic tenets of manhood.

Principle Number 1: Sleeping late kills ambition

I’ve never been a morning person, not as a young child, certainly not as a teenager, not in college, barely as a missionary, and not after getting married. Having children awake at 6 a.m. has forced me out of bed earlier than I’d like over the past 6 years. I’ve concluded my love of slumber must be correlated with my complete lack of ambition. I’m not the least bit interested in conquering the world, making a million dollars, cornering a market, landing on the moon, climbing Everest, or anything remotely close to it.

Not Hal. He is awake and raring to go at between 5:30 and 6:00 every morning, rain or shine, weekday or weekend, regardless of how late he went to bed. He accomplishes more before 7 a.m. than some people do all day: He does his chores (depositing trash and taking it out if anyone indulges him), “reads” the newspaper, does some cross training (runs multiple laps around the front room, and climbs several pieces of furniture), and supervises my morning workout (see Principle 2 below). He may just conquer the world and a few of the other aforementioned Herculean tasks.

Principle Number 2: You can do more than you think

Every morning between 6 and 7 a.m. I play tennis or run. After I return home, Hal, who has been up already for an hour or more and searching the house for me for nearly as long, proclaims my arrival to the rest of the household. He then runs into the front room and furiously points to the stereo, pleading with me in toddler language to turn on “The Promise” by When in Rome, the song that I do my daily sit-ups and push-ups to. Hal is addicted to it. He won’t relent until he hears it. Once I start the music and the push-ups, he comes over and supervises me, smiling brightly as I go up and down. After about 20 push-ups, he presses down on my back, as though he knows I’m struggling to finish the set, and like a sadistic coach, tries to get the most agony he can out of me.

Principle Number 3: Conquer your fears

Hal is unafraid of physical risk, again, in stark contrast to his old man. For example, when I see a mountain, I look at it, consider photographing it, and ponder how painful it would be to climb. Hal sees mountains (couches, tables, rocks, ladders) and climbs, no thought, just action. At the park, Hal demonstrated fearlessness beyond my own as he climbed 6 feet to the top of a playground climbing rock. He had already reached 4 feet before anyone realized what he was doing. It reminded me of Spiderman. He used the hand and foot holds like an expert. Is this my son?

Hal’s fearlessness is not limited to physical risk. He is also unafraid of bigger, stronger people (except for women who are not his mother). Hal is 3 years younger than EJ, yet at times he exerts dominion over EJ. Allow me to illustrate: EJ sits on the floor, minding his own business, playing with a toy. In the background, Hal trawls the room, looking for action. During this reconnaissance he spies EJ’s toy, and in a flash, pile drives him onto his back, sits on him, pins EJ’s arms with his legs, and takes the toy. His instantaneous decision making, precise movements and efficiency remind me of Jason Bourne of The Bourne Identity fame. Once EJ realizes what has happened, he screams out to anyone who will listen that he has been assaulted yet does nothing to defend himself. He is twice as big as Hal, yet doesn’t seem to realize it. Meanwhile, Hal sits on top of EJ, oblivious to EJ’s plight, examining the toy he’s just plundered. I stare at this scene dumbfounded, speechless, unsure of what counsel to give EJ other than “Stop crying!” and “Push him off!”

The boy astounds me regularly, and I often wonder where he gets his moxie from. It must be from his mother’s family.