There are times when absolutely nothing in the world can top being a parent.
I just got finished putting my son to bed. We read from his favorite book, “Where The Sidewalk Ends” by Shel Silverstein. I don’t always read to him at night. Sometimes I’m too tired, or I have things to do, or I have a headache. I try to make it a habit, but sometimes it just doesn’t happen. Whenever I do, though, he is so grateful. He will jump up and down and shout “hooray!” like the greatest thing in the world just happened to him. I like Shel Silverstein, too. Unfortunately I didn’t really discover him until I was in high school (although I do seem to recall The Giving Tree).
Alex is sick right now, so after I read to him I gave him some medicine and rubbed Vicks Vap-O-Rub on his chest. I remember how soothing that was when I was a boy. How sometimes I almost WANTED to be sick so that my mother would put some on me. It’s yet another in a long line of magical moments that pass between parents and children. Small moments, but things that last a lifetime.
Christmas is coming, too. I’m so excited. I love Christmas, and it’s so much better with my son. Seeing how excited he is when he gets his presents. Taking him to see Santa Claus. Doing the cookies and milk thing. It makes ME feel like a child again. I’m going to lose sleep over Christmas, but not just because I’m wondering how on Earth I’m going to pay for all the stuff I get him, but because I’m EXCITED about giving it to him. Isn’t that amazing?
There’s no real point to this one, gang. No moral to this story. Snapshot of my thoughts on a Thursday evening. G’nite.