My wife is a fantastic writer. She doesn’t do it enough. But when you run a house of chaos and deal with an over-inflated ego such as mine, time runs away from you; at a very hurried pace.
Today my son gets his 3 shots he needs to enter Kindergarten. I am taking a half day to help restrain him while my daughter most likely looks on in horror and fascination at her brother’s reaction. My wife wrote an entry about it which I will quote here:
“As I open my mouth to admit the possibility of shots (I refuse to actually confirm them) he comes over to my side, takes my hand and says “Cause I know it’s just little needles and won’t hurt that bad.” My jaw drops, he continues, “I do get scared sometimes when they want to stick the little needles in, but then the hurts over so fast and I don’t even cry…”
What a kick ass little dude. He doesn’t know dads picking up Star Wars Clone Wars for us to watch this afternoon. He doesn’t know we’re going to hang and chill till he feels up to eating whatever he wants. He’s growing up, and I think that’s a little difficult for mommy.
I’m just psyched I get to watch Clone Wars with the boy this afternoon and give him his first
beer, first lap dance, and first tattoo.