You keep waiting for an adultier adult to run in and say, “Ladies and gentlemen, this person is a liar!”
What followed was a ten minute game of angry Twister that left us with an awful haircut and an even more awful memory.
It seems like from the moment I became the father of a girl, there has been a concerted effort by the world to make me realize that she would one day grow up and move on.
“What must it be like when they’re all alone back at home?”
I wanted this to be a memory she kept forever. Luckily, there was an option that I had never even considered.
Lucas may be able to recognize some words and directions but, as a non-verbal five year old, the concept of “bless you” isn’t one of them.
The memories that matter to our kids, not to us, are the ones that make a difference
It wasn’t until recently, however, that I found myself asking that same question again in a very different way.
For a good five hours on December 13, 2012, I was convinced I was going to die.
All eyes are on you to end it as soon as you can. It’s a moment that every special needs parent has dealt with.