The kids are in bed and the lights are out. For no particular reason, I've lit a fire and settled into the closest chair to get some writing done.<\/p>\n
It doesn't take long for Sean to appear. He's at that age when bedtime is a series of events, more than a fixed point.<\/p>\n
"Hey bud."<\/p>\n
"Hi, Daddy." Long pause. "That's an awfully good fire you've got going there."<\/p>\n
"Thanks, bud… but you should be in bed."<\/p>\n
"Yeah…"<\/p>\n
A solid minute passes while he stares at the flames.<\/p>\n
"Would you like to lay on the couch for a bit and watch the fire?"<\/p>\n
"Yeah," he says, and climbs up.<\/p>\n
He watches, I type.<\/p>\n
"Maybe…"<\/p>\n
I look up.<\/p>\n
"Maybe when I'm bigger, like…" He thinks. "Maybe when I'm seven or something, I can help you make a fire."<\/p>\n
I consider it. "I suppose you could, but that's quite a ways off."<\/p>\n
"Yeah."<\/p>\n
More fire watching. More typing.<\/p>\n
"I have…"<\/p>\n
Again, I pause and look up. He's easy to spot in the dark, his face lit by the fire.<\/p>\n
"I guess I have a question, Daddy."<\/p>\n
"Oh yeah? Okay."<\/p>\n
"It's about boys."<\/p>\n
I raise my eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"<\/p>\n
"Yeah…"<\/p>\n
He seems to lose his train of thought, watching the fire.<\/p>\n
"What were you going to ask me, bud?"<\/p>\n
He reply is broken up with long pauses for fire staring. "Well… I was going to ask… I don't know… how to you talk to girls."<\/p>\n
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "I think you talk to girls all the time."<\/p>\n
"Yeah."<\/p>\n
Another long break.<\/p>\n
"But…" he shifts on the couch. "I don't know how you tell girls they're your best friend."<\/p>\n
"Ohhhhh…" I let him see me thinking about it. "Well, I think you just tell them that. You say: 'I think you're awesome, and you're my best friend.'" I can see him starting to grin, just imagining it. "Do you think you can do that?"<\/p>\n
"Yeah." He stares at the fire. "Maybe I'll say that to Margaret tomorrow."<\/p>\n
"Margaret, huh?" I nod. "I bet she'd like that."<\/p>\n
"Yeah."<\/p>\n
We both watch the fire, both thinking about Margaret, maybe.<\/p>\n
"Maybe I won't say that until I'm bigger."<\/p>\n
"Oh yeah?"<\/p>\n
"Yeah. Like…" he thinks about it. "Like when I'm seven or something, and I can make a fire. And have a puppy of my own."<\/p>\n
"Sounds good, buddy." I set the laptop aside. "You ready to go back to bed?"<\/p>\n
"Will you carry me?"<\/p>\n
"Of course." I swing him up, walk to the hallway, and turn back so we can look at the fire.<\/p>\n
"Thanks, Daddy."<\/p>\n
I don't know what he's thanking me for.<\/p>\n
Honestly, I don't much care.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The kids are in bed and the lights are out. For no particular reason, I've lit a fire and settled into the closest chair to get some writing done. It doesn't take long for Sean to appear. He's at that age when bedtime is a series of events, more than a fixed point. "Hey bud." … <\/p>\n