Daddy's Little Wingman

I know there are all levels of sacrifices I will make as a new parent. But this has to be one of the more unusual ones. One night I'm in charge with Davis on the changing table balling his eyes out. So I grab his hands and rather than the song and dance his mother does I make car sounds. This quickly turns into a motorcycle engine I didn't even know I could do. Well, it worked. It just fit so well since he's laying there gripping my fingers, he might as well be cruising along on a hog. It's now my thing. And no, it's not like he's begging for it or anything, but I call on my inner noise maker anytime I see him going off the reservation. The sacrifice? It kills the throat. But it's worth it.