I never know what fatherhood surprises are lurking around the corner.
If there was any chance that we could have the relationship that I envisioned rather than the one I feared, I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen.
My son isn’t a doctor. He’s doesn’t line up shoes or toys. He doesn’t scream when hugged. He doesn’t count cards, toothpicks, or, well, anything. He’s none of those things
He wants what he wants when he wants it and will ask you repeatedly.
Between quarantine and Summer break, it feels like he’s been in there for eons.
He won the standoff. He always wins the standoffs.
Even when I play-fight with him, he giggles and wraps his arms around me for hugs.
Most people will go their entire lives and never have what he and I have. Most people would never even understand it.
It’s not even five in the morning. Let the games begin.
Then again, it’s hard being a parent at all. Actually it’s hard just being alive sometimes.