I Don't Remember

9 years ago today, I discovered how hard it is to perform a simple task like verify that there are 10 little fingers and toes when your heart is racing at 160 bpm, and your brain is at once bewildered, amazed and freaked the hell out. That's probably why I don't remember much from that first night you made me a dad. It was simply too amazing to comprehend.

But over time, you settled well into being my son, I settled into being your dad, and my brain settled back to full functionality. I remember your first word (Ack, which meant car. Of course.). I remember your first step. Your first bite of non baby food (chocolate cake!), your first day of preschool, your first Lego set (Star Wars V-Wing), your first pair of Converse, your first Christmas, your first plane ride, your first haircut...

Then just the other night, as I was about to go to bed, I stopped by your room to check on you. Only it wasn't you. It was some kid whose feet could almost touch the end of the bed.

I don't remember when Bob the Builder stopped being his favorite show...

I don't remember the last time I used kitchen shears to snip his vegetables into little unchokeable pieces...

I don't remember when I stopped reflexively hoisting him up to sit on my shoulders wherever we went...

I don't remember when he stopped yelling "knock knock, dada" into the baby monitor every morning when he woke up...

I don't remember the last time he called me dada...

I don't remember when we stopped referring to ourselves as "2 and a baby" whenever we left our names with the restaurant host...

I don't remember the last time I tied his shoes...

I don't remember how this:

Turned into this:

I guess it still is too amazing to comprehend.

At least I remembered it's your birthday, son. Happy Birthday, Fury!

Love,

Dada