This is something I would consider a special treat. Here ya go...
"Those high school girls are checking you out, punkin'," I said.
He lifted his still-sleepy head and looked over there weakly for a few secs ..
It struck me how he was more interested in a cookie.
And the way that he says the word » snickerdoodle .. is just so adorably cute that I can hardly stand it.
And I say, "Punkin', please dont be so cute. I cant stand it when you say such cute things."
He obviously has no clue why I think he question is so cute. Nor does he care.
Because there is a pause before he says (with a touch of morning eagerness in his voice) "Does this mean we can get a snickerdoodle?"
But I don't want to be the pushover-dad that I am .. so I said, "We got a snickerdoodle last time. Can it be my turn to choose this time?"
He took surprisingly long to decide, but finally said (rather disappointedly) » "Okay .. you can choose."
I mean, there came a point when I thought he simply wasnt going to answer.
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••• today's entry continues here below •••
But he said it so sweetly. As only a toddler can .. before the demands-of-life has had a chance to fuck them up.
The honesty that the parent is privileged to witness at those very early ages .. is an awesome thing. Truly awesome.
» The Cookie Wars
Sometimes I would try to enlist the aid of the person behind the counter. While holding the Bug in one arm, I would say, "That doesnt sound right to you, does it, Griff? That he gets to choose the cookie every time?"
Most of the time they would side with the Bug. » "That sounds right to me! One snickerdoodle .. coming right up."
And the Bug would get a big smile and his sleepy eyes would suddenly 'wake-up' and begin to sparkle at the prospect .. as he returned their high-five .. leaving me the odd-man out .. of their spontaneous private victory celebration.
So .. what am I saying here? I am saying that » we ate a lot of snickerdoodles.
[ Myself, I prefer the chocolate walnut. Or even better, the uber-yummy chocolate-raspberry scone.
But you have to get there early .. cuz they sold-out fast. I can't tell you how many times the person in front of me bought the last one. ]
Sometimes, after we'd had snickerdoodles three or four times in a row, he would wax magnanimous and say, "You can choose the cookie today, dad."
♦ The end of the story about the Snickerdoodle Dad. ■
[ You can return to the exact spot from where this entry was lifted » right here. ]
» I've Never Seen a Child Do That for So Long Before
And this guy said to me, "I have never seen a child do that for so long before. He did not move at all."
After the Bug had climbed up on my lap and sat there without moving for 20 minutes or so .. while we all watched something together on the TV that was out in the TV room.
He even wrote this as part of his (many-page) report.
I didnt say anything, but was thinking, "Dude, this is nothing. He has sat here for waay longer than this."
To be honest, I wasnt sure why he was so impressed, because it seemed like such a nothing-thing to me. Something that we did all the time.
But it obviously got his attention.
» Stud Services & the Jewish Grandma
.. that it was also at this very same coffee shop ..
.. where there frequented an elderly Jewish grandma.
I won't reveal her name, but she was born in Israel and owned property there.
She told me how her property there had increased dramatically in value ..
.. because the Palestinian rockets could not reach the area where her home was located, and everybody wanted to move there.
She typically spent a few months here and a few months there, so sometimes we would see her a lot, and other times she'd be gone for a few months.
She had Ivy League sons that she was obviously very proud of, so they had to get their smart-genes from somewhere, right?
When I probed to see if she were serious, she exclaimed, "Of course! Just show them your son. Everybody will want one!"
Needless to say, she was good for my ego.
Every coffee shop needs a Jewish grandma to dispense sage advice while you nibble on your chocolate-raspberry scone and slurp the finest joe in Orange County.
♦ The end of the section about what the Jewish grandma said about stud'ing myself out for commercial services. ■■
» The Singer's Proposition
Speaking of my ego ..
.. it wants me to tell you the story about my friend, the singer ..
.. the California girl, Miss Kristen Carter, who I met in New Haven ..
She was tall and blond and could sing better than most of the people you hear on the radio. I know that sounds like hyperbole, but I'm serious.
And yes, I could see that she would've made a great mom. Patient, kind, understanding, affectionate.
I have already discussed her proposition in my entry titled » First Month of Kindergarten.
She is the reason I came to California. "We should live in Malibu," she said. Then things deteriorated. (My fault. Probably fear of intimacy, among other things.) But the idea had been planted ..
.. and then the yellow windshield ice-scraper snapped in my hand .. one cold morning about 5:15 AM (Oh-dark-thirty.)
A day after it has rained and then become freezing cold overnight. It is not easy to scrape a layer of ice off of your windshield .. in the dark .. with the sound of the wind blowing thru the trees.
.. when I saw this image of Taylor Swift ..
.. warning you that boys only want love if it's torture.
I caught myself saying (to Miss Swift) » "No, it's not true."
But she refuses to listen. (You know how girls are.)
I do however love » The Game (.. especially when played with a skilled competitor who knows more techniques than I do, so I can learn from them).
I flew out for Valentine's day .. to spend a long weekend with her .. while I was still living in New York. I didnt move to California until March.
She had other talents besides singing .. but I probably shouldnt say any more. Talk about a pleasant disposition.
I recall being struck by her statement (something like) » "I'm not letting you ruin the memory of the beautiful thing that we had together. So I moving back to California. I'm going to live with my brother and help his wife take care of their two kids, who love the shit out of me. You can come visit on Valentine's day, if you like. But I'm outta here come Christmas."
You could tell right away, from the enthusiasm in her voice ..
.. how much she really loved singing and singers. And how she was a passionate student of the art.
♦ The end of this section about the singer's proposition of why I should contribute my genes, my chromosomes ..
.. to one of the eggs waiting there in her early-thirty-ish ovaries. ■■■
» The Importance of a Pleasant Disposition
Not sure why .. but the thing I remember most about what she said, maybe because it surprised me ..
.. when she listed the reasons why she wanted to make good use of my sperm, of my chromosomes, of my genes .. was » "You have a pleasant disposition."
And this is what I think of that (.. of that apparent paradox) » "I can indeed be pleasant, very pleasant, around people who I like, who I resonate with, whose company I enjoy. But around people who can't stop criticizing and complaining and trying to make me the source of all their woes » eh, not so much."
Nietzsche is Very Much About » Values
Do you find that in any way curious?
Cuz I do. (Find it curious.)
Think about it.
Tho you must admit that the out-flow does indeed seem and feel very organic, no?
By that I mean that » it happens on its own (so to speak). Naturally. A natural progression of one thing to the next.
(I am just kinda thinking out loud, here. Maybe I will have more insight on the subject tomorrow or the next day.)
In this section about values, I would feel negligent if I didnt at least mention » Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values.
♦ The end of the section about what Nietzsche said about how nothing good can grow from something bad, and how that idea might pertain to today's entry, and how Nietzsche is very much about » values. ■■■■■
» "Tell dad I'll call him back later."
While I am thinking about the Bug here .. I have something to share (recent development) which I feel is noteworthy because it produced the opposite effect you might ordinarily expect. See if you agree.
I was calling to talk to him one evening and his mom said that he was next door watching TV with the neighbor's kids.
And she wandered next door. I heard the door open and she said, "It's your dad."
And I heard him say (rather clearly) » "Tell dad I'll call him back later."
That is something that had never occurred before. And I was sad for a second, but then glad ..
.. because it signaled to me a degree of independence. I mean, it actually brought a sense of accomplishment .. that he would say that.
I mean, I wasnt trying to feel glad .. I just was.
It's kind of hard to describe because it is not an entirely rational thing.
This can be a land of both crushing desperation and joys beyond your wildest imagination. As tho the very favor of the Lover himself were shining down upon you.
But I was still blown away by what he said an hour or two later .. and I have thought about it a number of times since it happened.
So that is what makes it notable to me .. especially in a fatherhood/son way.
♦ The end of the section where I discuss the first time the Bug said » "Tell dad I'll call him back later," and how that made me feel (surprisingly) good because it » signals independence. ■■■■■■
» The Most Distressing Dreams (Nightmares)
Another noteworthy thing .. I had another dream (recently) where I lost the Bug. I havent had one of those is a long time. Very long.
This one however, was different in that this was the first such dream that didnt involve a second floor. Or perhaps I just didnt get far enough along in the dream to come to the part where a second floor is involved.
In all of the other dreams I've had where I lose (can't find) the Bug .. a second floor is always somehow involved. (Inexplicably.)
These dreams are the worst of the worst. I wonder if the parents of those kids from Newtown have dreams like that.
Also, this dream was pretty short .. compared to the others, which seemed to go on and on forever.
In this one, I was in severe emotional distress because I couldnt find him (lost him) but woke shortly thereafter. (Not sweating.)
Normally these dreams (nightmares) are so distressing that I wake exhausted and muddle thru the day in a fog.
♦ The end of the section where I discuss the worst dreams (nightmares) where I lose the Bug. ■■■■■■■
» The Hardest Thing
This might be a good place to share, perhaps, one of the hardest things I've ever had to do .. as a dad. Something I never imagined I might ever have to say.
I had to dig deep for this .. and for a long time, too ..
.. which was to say » "Sometimes, punkin', when things seem like they're not going the way they ought to .. sometimes you look back later .. and can SEE HOW they actually *did* work out good. Not always, of course, but sometimes. And I somehow feel that we'll be able to look back and see that this is one of those times."
I was actually surprised that I came up with that. And yes, he got it.
I am not sure whether the parent who has not experienced the parenting-trials that I have gone thru .. whether they can truly appreciate the heartache [ the soul-fucking torment ] that goes on behind the uttering of such a statement.
I know that could sound pretentious, but I mean it more as something written to myself, thinking out loud, than to the reader.
And this therapy esteems honesty over humility. (Tho it prizes humility, too. Probably because it can be difficult for me, sometimes.)
I can see that this entry will be the one to go to when I really want to go deep, and explore new territory. (I can feel myself waay out there.)
♦ The end of the section where I discuss perhaps the hardest thing I've ever had to do as a parent. Tho I wouldnt expect the average parent to understand. ■■■■■■■■
» A Comfortable Deathbed
Another thing that sticks with me ..
.. is when I said to him » "I don't get to spent much time with you, now, Punkin' .. but when you were small .. and doctors who study Child Development all agree that those are the most important years .. when you were small, I spent lots of time with you .. more than most dads get to spend with their kids. Waay more."
And I'll never forget the way he said (surprisingly understandingly) » "I know you you did, dad."
When I am lying there on my deathbed (.. if death can ever catch up with me, something I doubt very much) .. when I am laying there, I will hear my son's heartfelt response and it will bring me comfort. Great comfort.
I added » "And I appreciated the time that I got to spend with you .. because I couldnt see you every day. And because you are the coolest kid ever that any dad could ever want. Too many parents dont appreciate their kids .. like I appreciate you."
To which he said » "I know."
Dylan Thomas poem » Do not go gentle into that good night
I did not feel this way when I visited my dying father. I wish I did (who wouldnt?) .. but I didnt. [ I am merely being honest. ]
My dad lived to see 60 .. which was considerably better than mom did .. who only made it to 47.
To be continued...
♦ This section about Dylan Thomas' poem for his Dying Father remains a » work-in-progress (WIP).
So this is NOT the end of this section. ■■■■■■■■■■
Done-y, done-done with this page (.. except for the section about Dylan Thomas' 1951 poem). ■
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