I Want Pancakes
July 9th, 2009
Our family beach trip this year started like the other years. The daughter and son-in-law with the most kids leave the night before the rest of the family, drive half-way, spend the night at a hotel, and finish the trip the next day with everyone else. The best part of the deal is that Nana gets to go with them and escape the last-minute packing frenzy taking place at her house. It’s okay that my assigned seat is the extra half-seat added to the second-row seats just for the occasion. I am seated between two car seats, one holding a toddler and the other a good-sized baby. I can dish out a jar of baby food, shake up a bottle of formula, divvy out goldfish, and settle arguments between the school-aged passengers buckled into the third row seats all while the family mini-van is screaming toward the Gulf of Mexico—and enjoy it.
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The Day My Son Became a Father
May 12th, 2009
No, I don’t mean the day his son was born. Any man can spawn offspring. That ability alone does not a father make. I’m talking about the day everyone knew he was in it for the long haul.
My son had been the baby of our family—one of life’s little surprises. He came along at a time when our lives were very busy, and he had to jump in and keep up. He did quite well during those growing-up years, by the by. But when his two older sisters married and had babies, the only emotion he showed was a mild annoyance at the crying, the nursing, the diapering, and the other inconveniences. He might occasionally hold one of the babies, but he could barely conceal his disinterest.