I do not carry around photos of my children or my grandchildren. I never have. My husband is the sentimentalist with the pictures and the remembering of the anniversary (the 25th, 25th, 25th I think I'll remember it, someone order flowers for me, okay?) the birthdays, etc ... And his reward? One of them is this little guy who names his food after his papa.
And this other little guy who's best friend is his papa, no matter how infrequently we see him he has hugs and kisses for Papa but 'Bika? Sometimes he recalls who I am and other times he's not so sure.
The other little guy has adopted "papa" for his own and greets him with very deep chortles of delight (my gosh he has a deep voice for such a little tyke). And this is Papa's Posse. No matter how late he comes through the door if one of the posse are here he is ready to flop on the floor and play cars with them, or talk in funny voices with the assortment of stuffed animals or power rangers. Or watch Animal Planet with them and say, "Ooooo grooossss" at all the right moments.
With each of these kids one of their first words were "Papa"! And it is no wonder, since it was a word that brings the most rewards. It is Papa's lap they sit on when they are tired, and his shoulder they cry on when mean ole 'Bika has said "no," his hands that hold the treats and his face that makes the funniest looks, and his mouth that laughs the loudest.
For a man who was never "blessed" with a child of his "own blood" one would never know it to see him surrounded by these squealing children demanding their share of his "Paparoni" (that he buys almost daily under the name of pepperoni at the Tillamook Country Smoker), the name bestowed on this wonderous treat by the child in the top picture. Something so marvelous must carry the name of something else even more marvelous, obviously.
The other night we were treated to twenty minutes of dueling air guitars by the three year old and his papa. Back and forth they went trying to outdo one another, using youtube's Jack Black and the Chinese Dormitory boys for backup. The crowd went wild - we really did to, it was the funniest thing to see both the 3 year old's and the 47 year old's rendition of "the sprinkler" while hanging on to their air guitars.
Sentiment does appear to have its upside. I can't wait until he has the whole posse together for an air band jam session (then again, maybe I can).
2 comments:
Same with my kids. They love my dad, who's almost as short as them in any case. But I'm also a big photo carrier. So I can relate to hubby.
I finally got this little electronic thingy, i forget what its called, and I filled it with pics. Now I just have to remember to bring it out when people ask if I have pics!
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