It is Explorer Post night at the hospital. High school kids from the Springfield area and tour a different area of the hospital each month from September through May. I don't HAVE to be there every month but my boss likes for me to volunteer and I really enjoy seeing the kids and helping the presenters out by asking questions at times when dialogue stalls.
The only reason I dread it is because it takes me away from time with my son.
I think he knows, by some freakish toddler 6th sense or an uncannily accurate internal clock, when the second Thursday of the month rolls around because he becomes especially cute, lovable and amusing in the preceding days. Tonight he was throwing a ball to me, climbing on my shoulders, sitting on my lap, pretending he was reading the newspaper and giving me kisses every 10 to 15 minutes. As I got him ready for bed he played peekaboo with me and made the gesture he gives me when he wants me to bend down so he can rub the top of my buzz-cut head. He laughed when I laid down on the floor and pretended to sleep and he let me know he was ready to lay down by pointing down the hall and saying "night-night."
He's in bed right now but I can hear him making little noises as he settles down for the night and I know that I won't get to see him but for the 30-40 minutes tomorrow morning when I feed him, dress him and take him to daycare. He'll be long asleep when I get home tomorrow night but that won't stop me from creeping into his room to touch his head and put a hand on his chest to assure myself that he is actually breathing. I know that when he wakes up Friday morning he'll sit up when he hears my voice and raise his arms so I can lift him out of his crib. When I do he'll rest his head on my shoulder for a moment and then he'll start telling me about all the exciting things he did that he didn't get to tell me about the night before.
I won't understand most of what he's saying to me, but he'll know that I'm listening. . . and that I love him.
Sleep tight Nathan.
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2 comments:
You're a good dad.
I try. It is hard sometimes. As cute as he is, he can find that last nerve and jump on it with track spikes until you want to scream.
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