Father's Day

Quietly, I had been looking forward to this day. The anticipation was building for something I never celebrated & honestly had no idea what to expect. Today was father’s day & I was able to celebrate this day because of you, and an extra-large shout out to mommy who spent most of her day cooking, making sure my day was special.

When I tried to tell you it was Father’s Day at 7am you stared at me like “….so what, where is my bottle?”. Just like me, you’re not a morning person. I knew better than to bother you before you had coffee and donut. Mommy made a big breakfast & a seafood feast for dinner. Nana & Grandpa came over to visit. You wore a father’s day t-shirt, and when I picked you up and said “hey big guy its father’s day!”, this time at 10:30am, you were a bit more receptive and gave me the biggest toothless smile. Maybe it was the funny face I made, or you knew what I was saying using your 6 month old infinite wisdom. Either way my day was complete. Mommy said you picked out the gifts ( I like your taste in cologne), and I even admire your humor when it comes to greeting cards.

 

So the night comes to a close. The dishes are being washed & you’re crawling all over the place. And you gave me the best gift a child could give their father. A gift unmatched by anything else I have ever received. That’s right, a massive poop. The mother of all poops. A poop of epic proportions. No days off I guess. Thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me. 1 Fathers day down, 1 million more to go.

You Never Forget Your First Pair

It’s my fault. Actually it’s your grandpa’s fault. He created this monster in the early 90s. As a father, you hope that your son enjoys the things that you may have enjoyed as a kid. I wonder what superheroes you’ll dress up as for Halloween,  what sports you might play, which athlete or movie star ‘s poster will be taped to your bedroom wall or even if you’ll prefer chocolate ice cream over vanilla. But as a rite of passage, it would be sacrilegious (this will be a spelling word in a few years) for your 1^st pair of shoes not to be an Air Jordan. My 1st pair of shoes were a pair of powder blue & white Nikes that zipped up, and to this day, your grandfather still has them in a tin Nike box in his top drawer. There’s an indescribable feeling as I tied your 1^st pair of shoes like I was handing down a legacy….more like an expensive habit. As we stood in front of our closet wearing our diaper & Fruit of The Looms, we gazed at our options making life decisions of how cool we wanted our feet to look that day. You mumbled something so I assume my choice met your infant approval. 

This means nothing to you now & you won’t remember getting them. You never saw him play, and I can’t wait for our debates of how you think Lebron Jr, Westbrook Jr, or Durant Jr is better than the Greatest of All Time. Sure, there will be a player whose jersey you’ll beg me to buy, and I’ll respond just like grandpa when I asked him for the latest sneaker and he said “Those cost $150!” There’s no doubt that you’ll be well adjusted to the Jumpman lifestyle because your grandpa kept me in a fresh pair. I think my 1^st pair was in 1991 as a first grader. One day you’ll appreciate the new shoe smell and coordinating outfits to match, or you'll like the Batman velcro shoes 100 times more,  but right now you just at this foreign object preventing you from putting your toes in your mouth. Like Father, Like Son.