Earlier this evening after dinner the child was on my knee and we were being silly as we’re known to be and I realized that she’s getting big. Too heavy for my knee heavy and I fear that knee bouncing will be over sooner than I’d like.
She’s absolutely more active than her old man. The other morning we were outside waiting for the bus and before we knew it she had sidewalk chalk out and a map on the driveway we had to follow.
“Jump, Dad!” she commanded.
I told her that her Dad’s jumping days are behind him - and then I jumped anyway
They don’t tell you that as a later-in-life Dad that you’ll be jumping in the driveway. When you learn you’re going to be a father the first thing you’re thinking of is cute baby, and diapers and the rest is unknown and uncharted and a bit murky.
But when those later years come into focus and it’s then you’re at the end of the driveway mid-air when you realize that this is still just the start and you have no idea what you’re in for and you still have years more of being told to jump, hide, run, follow, watch, create, tape, wrap, tie, adjust, drive and a myriad of other things that she needs or wants.
And you’re not sure if you’re going to make it. Especially if there’s more jumping.
Enough with the jumping.
Keeping it in mid-air,
TH and Co.