Category: Being a Dad

Pulling Rank

Pulling rank isn’t something we like to do here at Casa Torres. 
All members of the clan (including dogs) are encouraged utilize the home’s amenities at their leisure or need. 
With that said, there are regular times in the morning when dad has been up a while, he’s been walking about doing morning chores, he’s had second cup coffee and may find himself in need to use the privy. 
At those times, that parent reserves the right to commandeer the bathroom over the objection of a yawning and lumbering 6th Grader.

A Cherub came Home

A cherub came home. 
He was plump and a little wrinkly as I carried him past the threshold. 
For some time his cheeks so pinchable, arms squishable and when he laughed his belly shook like a bowl full of jelly. 
Fast forward a decade just after I picked him up at the airport from his first summer trip. His 5’1″ frame strutted into his home and shocked his mom for a moment. He’s now taller than some adults. Traded the wrinkles for long lean legs and arms. 
His sweetness remains. 
He has not but one care. 
The cherub is gone and 
morphing to debonair.

Wonder Daughter

My date arrived at about 7 minutes before 11. Twenty minutes or so later the action started on the screen and the princess she had been waiting to see emerged into the picture. For the next couple of hours I saw her mouth wide open as the heroine made tough choices. She giggled at how naive she was as a young woman in the world. She fidgeted in her seat when it seemed that there might be a kiss on the screen. She tugged at my watch when the going got tough for Diana and it wasn’t certain that she’d win the day. 
When it was all done and over and we were making our way out of our Krikorian she proudly looked at me in the eye and told me that “I want to be her.” I smiled and told her that in so many ways, she already is.

Digital Parent

While sitting here at the Real Estate office this morning I found myself going about the usual routine. I had my coffee by my side, the Monrovia Weekly had been read, I had already traded pleasantries with the agents in the office and the computer was on so I could get to work. As usual I started with email and I found that most was inconsequential…then one caught my eye. It’s uniqueness was glaring. My son had emailed me and now I was staring at this note on the screen where he asked for some homework help. I’m transfixed by the account-avatar he chose (his current favorite animal) and how much punch his one sentence digital note is making on my analog heart. 
He’s starting to live in a brave new world. I better be a good guide!

What will I miss

The retirement strategist shared with all the small business owners this morning some helpful data about days-sans-work and planning for them. 
He lost me for a moment I’ll admit. 
When he mentioned the statistical gap that says that it is likely that I will die several years before my partner does my mind began to wonder of what I’ll miss. One day her hands will turn really wrinkly and I may not get to massage them. Will it turn out that like my father I’ll miss hearing the coos of my first grandchild? It’ll be a shame not to unleash my inner curmudgeon at the Thanksgiving table and then take a nap right after. Then one day it could be that I’ll be just a picture on the wall and some people may tell tall fond tales of the handsome young guy I used to be. 
I snapped back to real time just as the presentation ended. I’m thinking about this stuff a lot late. Could it be it’s because my 30s are coming to an end this year?

Master Linguist

I’ve developed a bit of a bad habit as of late.
 Whenever I’ve caught one of the Torres children using an idiom I find myself inquiring on whether they really know its meaning. 
I don’t want them to play things by ear. Saying random things not knowing their meaning is for the birds. So I rather hear it from the horse’s mouth if they really know the meaning. It’s my goal that before I kick the bucket to teach them the fun and wonder of language. So as a parent I am taking the bull by the horns by quizzing and teaching. One may even said I’m taking care of two birds with one stone.

The Belt that Binds

My old man used to promise me “the belt” from time to time. 
It was one of his most priced possessions and one day he’d pass it on to me. I could not care less of it. It represented how it bound him to the house that I wanted to leave desperately so I could go hang out with friends like other teens. In time I moved out permanently at what happened to the belt I do no know. I only thought of it today as I shopped for one so I could keep my most used tools near now that I’m working on home projects left and right. They aren’t chores and I have fun doing them.
 I suppose I have fallen in love with Casa Torres. My children might say I’m bound to it.

Battle of the Bulge

I’ve gotten soft about the belly. I work out, I try to eat right, I most certainly attempt to lay off the wine but this hasn’t made much a difference to my waist line. I realize this most when I make the effort to fit into my old fitted shirts and the buttons struggle to maintain their position in the outlined slots. Therefore, like my father before me, I will transfer some of my older clothes post haste to my son’s closet. 
My only hope is that my fashions will still be in fashion when he’s ready to look dapper in them.