“Dad, this is the best Super Bowl, isn’t it?”. I looked over at my nine (9) year old son. I smile…and nod, “yes, of course.” He is sitting next to me . . . digging his hands into a bowl of popcorn, smiling. I smile. It is just the two of us, watching the Super Bowl together. Just the guys. Just us boys. Sure I was invited to parties, dinners and gatherings. No doubt those are fun and I appreciate the invitations but I wouldn’t trade anything or places with anyone.
Where Does The Time Go?
Tears stream down my cheeks and that uncomfortable lump grows in my throath, chest. I’m looking at photographs of my children. My wife and I are looking at the photoraphs together. They tell a beautiful story of a young couple who marry and make a nice little, happy life for themselves with their three (3) children. These photos tell the story of my life with my wife and kids. Today I see pictures of a chubby cheeked, always smiling boy with huge, giant curls. I touch the cheeks of the boy in the picture trying to remember those “Kodak” moments. I turn to my wife and she has tears in her eyes. We both do. Where does the time go? He’s older now . . . 9. Yes, he’s still young but he’s older, sassier, more talkative and testing his boundaries. But not tonite. Tonite it was the two of us. The boys. Father and Son. It was the best Super Bowl Sunday ever.