Confessions of a Dad.
#1
So, last night, I went in the tank, when playing “Sorry!” with
my daughter.
I threw it.
She needed one specific card to win, and the deck needed
shuffling anyhow…
I saw the card, and made sure that she’d get it, on her 2nd
turn.
This was no professional grade slight of hand. Those who’ve
played euchre with me over the last 35 years know that I actually suck at
stacking decks, and therefore simply never bother to try.
She’s five, you see. And
was far too busy playing with her game pieces and talking to her mom to pay any
attention to what I was doing….
Ok darlin’, it’s your turn… Hey! It’s the card you need! You won!
Great job sweety!. Not bad for
your first try at the game.
Now go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas.
I love you, but it was getting really late, and you WERE
ahead, so probably would have won eventually, and we all had lots of fun….
It was getting really late…
Which brings me to
bedtime stories.
Sometimes, I… skim a bit.
Less so now that you’re older, and better able to follow narratives.
The Little House on The Prairie books?
I skimmed the shit out of those.
So much for my father of the year award.
A whole page spent on describing the minutia of dress making
cira 1880? Gray poplin under skirt, with
enough room for hoops in case…….
Oh, hell no. I’m a
DAD!!! Skim!
You really didn’t miss anything important, I’m pretty sure.
But I WAS reading to you. Snuggled up with you on your bed, reading you
chapter books that I knew you were enjoying, modulating my voice as it got
later and later, to become a little quieter, a little more soothing…
So, no harm, no foul, right? Can I have a hug?
Excellent.
Oh, and sometimes, when we say “it’s time to go. 2 more minutes!” when you are not done having fun yet?
There’s no real reason for it. “time to go”
is relative sometimes, based solely on a whim, on how we feel about it at that very moment.
It's a harsh reality, best not to think about it too much.
Would you like me to read you a book? maybe play a board game?
