Smells Like Fatherhood

My 3 year old son Lukas and I were driving home from work the other day chatting about our respective days. Having had a long one, and yearning for his touch I reached back and held out my hand. His tiny hand grabbed my fingers, and held them for a brief fleeting moment. Then, he called out “Daddy, I am transferring my power through my hand, into your arm, through your other arm, down the steering wheel and into the tank!”

I was focused and engaged in my post dinner routine of washing up the dishes a couple of nights ago, when a loud crashing and banging startled my attention away from the task at hand. Lukas and his mother were playing and he had emptied out his metal lunchbox full of matchbox cars onto the floor. I continued on with my task, only to have my attention drawn away once again. My wife and son had lined up all the cars by color, and Lukas was there at my feet, looking up at me with his head tilted back. “Are you done? What color do you want to be?” “Blue!” I responded, leaving the rest of the dishes for later.

As Mrs LIAYF, Lukas, and I drove to a birthday party for a little friend of his this past weekend, our son looking out the window at the passing world announced “The world is all in a big commotion.”  I had to smile.

We experienced our first unannounced visitor a few nights ago. Lukas, who has enjoyed his freedom from his crib since July has learned how to open his sticky door and wander. Apparently he has been working on his stealthiness as well and he opened the gate at the top of the stairs, snuck down without us hearing, and peeked around the corner at his mother and I on the couch, faces buried in our laptops. When we noticed him his look was a perfect blend of ‘Look how clever I am’ and ‘I’ve been had’.

Having nights where he is in no mood to go right to sleep, our son has quickly learned our weaknesses. He will either 1) Suddenly have to go pee several times, or 2) Still be hungry despite eating a hearty dinner. I, of course, will most often cave when he says he is hungry and often bring him his favorite treat a bowl of wheat cereal. I will tell him he has to stay in bed while I go and get the cereal, which he always does. Then, as I turn on the hallway light and open the door I am always greeted by a boy with a smile a mile wide because I came.

What do all of the above vingnettes have in common? Nothing really, besides a happy father and son.  They are just me, stopping along the path of fatherhood to smell the sweet flowers which constitute otherwise normal everyday occurances in raising a child.

And I have to say, they sure smell great.

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