The boy, 3 years, 51 weeks
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One of the hardest parts of being a Dad for me has always been enjoying the "Here and Now," as I constantly find myself wondering what will become of the boy when he's older, what kind of boy/teen/man he'll be. I have a wonderful day with him playing squirt gun wars and hanging at the beach but in the back of my mind, I'm worrying he'll get in a car wreck when he's 16 because of something I failed to teach him now. I know, parenting is mostly worry. Last night I was helping him vomit into a bowl over some 24-hour flu bug, Tuesday he came home from day care with a big gash on his forehead he got chasing after some girl, today he put on a puppet show for me. You cross your fingers and try not to freak out, like, every second for the rest of your life.
I guess I'll do what I can, and store up all these "I love yous" for the not-too-distant day when he'll be aghast at the notion of affection between us and far too cool to tell his Daddy that. Meantime, I love you too, boy.
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