Memories of my dad
I was sitting on the bus this morning, eyes glazed like donuts, watching the cold urban sprawl unwind past, thinking about the things that I want to share with to my kid as he/she grows up. I didn’t really have a dad around when I was growing up in the legalized white bread suburban hell that is called the public school system, so I missed a lot of the experiences that most kids have.
Ironically, the memories that I cherish the most from childhood are the fond memories I have of small moments with my dad. Silly things really, but things that I want to share with my kids in addition to the all the things that I get to share with them since I will be around when my dad was not around for me. I get to go to swim meets and band practices and karate lessons, and I am kind of excited about it. I get to show my kid how to hack things to make them better, cooler and unique. How to take apart a nerf gun to make it shoot farther and more accurately. How to fix a bike up. How to lift weights properly (not that my form is perfect or anything, but a guide is a guide). But like my dad did with me, I am also excited to share sharp cheddar cheese and crackers with my son in front of the weekend’s football game on the boob tube, to share my love of egg sandwiches (with mayo on toasted bread of course) and the love of legos and platform video games.
But, I am scared to death of the other things. My dogs are bad enough, but a child takes that fear to a whole new level. My little girl has bronchitis and pneumonia and I constantly worry if she is getting better and making sure that I am doing the right things as a dog dad. With a baby, though, that fear kicks up +20. I better keep rolling the twenties as a dad, cause I am going to need the combos.
+Luck would help too. My wife thinks I will be a good dad. I felt the kiddo kick last night for the first time. I hope that I will be. At least I have some time to grow into it. Not like I have to be superdad on day one or anything.
At least not yet.
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