Mom told me that you read my last post and I want to clarify some things so you won’t be confused . . .
I am so glad that you’re growing up. Aside from the fact that you’re almost as tall as I am (which sucks), you are maturing in your thinking and your imagination knows no bounds. Sure I miss the days when you were a little fart with nothing but time on your hands and cookie crumbs on your shirt. But those days have given way to new ones in which you are busy becoming a man.
I’m proud of your spirit of volunteerism. I have no doubt that the kids you trotted through the zoo last summer remember your smile and wit. And this summer, you’ve earned a new position as a Zoo Crew volunteer. It’ll be a behind-the-scenes opportunity for you to learn so much more about animals and zoos and how they operate – something that I know interests you greatly. I can’t wait to see you interact with the visitors; you’ll charm them and they’ll be impressed with your passion for animals and compassionate attitude toward the way they are cared for.
And I smile when I see the way you relate to your siblings. They love you and respect you in ways you will someday understand. You teach them so many things about being a big kid and they know they are safe when you stay with them when mom and I are away. Thank you for being responsible and seeing the little things that others miss.
Our time together is limited. We are both involved in so many things as we grow and learn, and I want you to know that I am proud of the way you spend your time. I can’t wait to see you in your school’s musical this spring (I’ve already asked for the night off). I have been impressed by the way you’ve taken to learning your lines and preparing your costume and even reading books about being a better performer. All these things show me that you are taking your responsibilities, and your free time, seriously. And I must tell you that hearing you pick away at your guitar in your room makes my heart swell with pride. I am so glad that you’ve found something that interests you and makes you want to practice and learn and mature. One day, you’ll get that solo in Iron Man down and I’ll shed a tear or two hearing you shred it up.
I love you, son. Every minute I spend with you is an honor – a gift only a father can appreciate.
I just wanted you to know that.
Let’s do breakfast at McD’s next week. Your treat . . .