Wow
As is my custom, I rise, shower and dress before the sun comes over the
now hue-dappled hills. My wife is barely breathing when I kiss her on
the cheek to tell her I love her and to wish her a good day.
Then, quietly, I make my way into my daughter's room and kiss her, too. "I love you, daddy," she infrequently says. Most days she just rolls over and falls back into dreamland. "I love you, too, peanut."
Last, but not least, I tiptoe into my son's room to complete this daily routine. He's a heavy sleeper, so I seldom get much of a response from him. This morning it was different.
It was nearly 9:30pm last night, the game was only in the bottom of the fourth inning, and my kids were ready for bed.
"But dad, can't I watch just a little more?" my son protested.
I sighed heavily. "No son. I'm sorry. You know how hard it is to get up in the mornings when you go to bed too late. And you've got a test tomorrow. Besides, you know how your mom is. She wants you in bed an hour ago."
He looked at my sadly with those big hazel eyes. "Well, then you have to promise you'll write me a note in the morning to let me know how the game ends." I've written my share of game summaries in his 10-year old life, but this one was different. This is the first time in his life, that he can remember, that the Yankees were this close to the World Series.
"I promise," I said, and we walked up the stairs together.
Ten minutes later I found myself racing back up the stairs, albeit quietly this time, with big news. "Tex hits a screaming single to center, A-Rod comes up and hits a two-run dinger to left. Yankees 5, Angels nothing."
He sat bolt up in the bed. "Really?" he exclaimed.
"Really, really," I replied. "I love you. Go to sleep."
"I love you, too, dad" he said as he nestled back down beneath the gray and blue Yankee comforter in his Yankee-decorated room. He quickly fell fast asleep, no doubt with visions of DJ, A-Rod and Jorgie dancing in his head.
As I leaned over him this morning to kiss him goodbye for the day, he sat up and looked me square in the face. "What was the final score, dad?" he asked with just a trace of sleep in his bleary eyes.
I smiled as I gave him a hug. "10-1 Yankees," I replied.
"Wow," he said as he smiled and fell back asleep.
Yea, wow.
Then, quietly, I make my way into my daughter's room and kiss her, too. "I love you, daddy," she infrequently says. Most days she just rolls over and falls back into dreamland. "I love you, too, peanut."
Last, but not least, I tiptoe into my son's room to complete this daily routine. He's a heavy sleeper, so I seldom get much of a response from him. This morning it was different.
It was nearly 9:30pm last night, the game was only in the bottom of the fourth inning, and my kids were ready for bed.
"But dad, can't I watch just a little more?" my son protested.
I sighed heavily. "No son. I'm sorry. You know how hard it is to get up in the mornings when you go to bed too late. And you've got a test tomorrow. Besides, you know how your mom is. She wants you in bed an hour ago."
He looked at my sadly with those big hazel eyes. "Well, then you have to promise you'll write me a note in the morning to let me know how the game ends." I've written my share of game summaries in his 10-year old life, but this one was different. This is the first time in his life, that he can remember, that the Yankees were this close to the World Series.
"I promise," I said, and we walked up the stairs together.
Ten minutes later I found myself racing back up the stairs, albeit quietly this time, with big news. "Tex hits a screaming single to center, A-Rod comes up and hits a two-run dinger to left. Yankees 5, Angels nothing."
He sat bolt up in the bed. "Really?" he exclaimed.
"Really, really," I replied. "I love you. Go to sleep."
"I love you, too, dad" he said as he nestled back down beneath the gray and blue Yankee comforter in his Yankee-decorated room. He quickly fell fast asleep, no doubt with visions of DJ, A-Rod and Jorgie dancing in his head.
As I leaned over him this morning to kiss him goodbye for the day, he sat up and looked me square in the face. "What was the final score, dad?" he asked with just a trace of sleep in his bleary eyes.
I smiled as I gave him a hug. "10-1 Yankees," I replied.
"Wow," he said as he smiled and fell back asleep.
Yea, wow.
Leave a comment