Suddenly all the corny nonsense you were forced to do for the sake of family unity has become a source of humiliation again.
I can still remember the first time that my sweet-faced, doting, little princess ripped my heart out. She was two.
Every family has their own language. It's made up of words or phrases that no one else would understand. Every person contributes. Every person speaks it.
"What time do you guys fight Santa?"
I want her to believe that she's the best artist on Earth. Why? Because she is.
The days of, "there are no socks up here" quickly become "I'm going to a study group with friends" as they hit the teenage years.
I know there are things that he doesn't get about my world. There are things about his world that I don't get. The things we do both understand, though, are special.
Ugh! Why would you make him kiss me like that!?
I started to piece the puzzle together and that's when I learned that, as a dad, I was given pretty much free reign to be as dorky as I wanted.