Like duh, you know who they are. You were thinking maybe Trinity & Neo? Turner and Hooch? Clark and Gable? Noo! It’s my awesome wife and the gallon-sized ball of love, drool & clawing fingers that is my son. + some photoshopping. Because although the weather up here may suck, it’s not that weird.
Drawing in on my first Father’s day makes me feel old and mature and all that bullshit, but also thankful for what I have. His first birthday last Saturday started the ball rolling, and this is just driving it home. Can you drive balls? Golf I guess. /dontcareaboutmetaphor
I didn’t think I’d really care, but then Z “made” me this little pencil holder thing (the made it and he painted it somehow) at his daycare for F-Day and it kind of hit me. I’m not sure exactly what “it” is, but I felt different. Maybe it’s just the generic “hey I made part of this thing with my sperm, and now it can make stuff for me” realization that I think Dave Chapelle addressed with some kind of bit about macaroni. Maybe it’s the delicate balance between worrying myself to death about bad things happening to him and living in joywonder at the magic that is a growing child tipping more towards joy now that he is getting out of the more serious “worry zone” (at least until the teen years…).
Life certainly isn’t perfect and in fact it’s more difficult than its ever been, but I wake up most every day happy to be alive, married, and a father.
I’m happy & lucky to be on this forcefully educating and maturing road of parenthood with my best friend & co-pilot. I suspect that we will make it without crashing. The view is certainly nice. I’m especially pleased at the week long layover we’ll be having in Hawaii later this year.