I’ve always thought that being a dad seemed like a good gig. As in my original post on the matter (Mother’s Day) I could elaborate on that but, out of respect for those dad’s who read this, I won’t.
When John leaves Jane cries or frantically waves goodbye over and over and over again.
When he returns Jane rushes to greet him as soon as she hears his voice.
If I’m carrying Jane through the house she will attempt to leap from my arms to his as we pass.
When John puts her to bed he sings her to sleep and she cuddles in and falls asleep in his arms in a way that she never does for me.
Recently Jane was having a bad night, a double ear infection kind of a bad night, and I had been up rocking her and singing to her and while she was settled down in my lap she wasn’t happy and she wasn’t sleeping. After awhile John came in the room to check on us, (added proof of great dad-idness). Jane crawled off my lap, crawled across the floor and pulled on his pants until he picked her up where she snuggled right into his shoulder.
Clearly I had been dismissed.
I crawled back into my own bed as I thought to myself “So, this is what it’s like to be the dad? Yup, I was right, it’s awesome!” and smiled as I fell back asleep.