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I Am About to Have a Son. I Am Thinking of My Father.
Preparing for my first child gave me a whole new understanding of the man who raised me
Having never had a child, the thing about parents that’s most impressed me up to now is the “you’re okay” thing they pull off.
I am of course talking about a scenario we’ve all seen some version of. You’re sitting at your friend’s kitchen table, catching up. Their kid, barely able to walk six steps without falling over, careens by and trips, stumbling headfirst into a glass sliding door.
The kid’s neck bends at an angle that would make a physical therapist start counting his money. The impact makes a noise that triggers you to instinctively pray. The little toddler’s body crumples into a heap.
“You’re fine,” your parent friend says. And even more bizarre, they seem to mean it. The kid glances over, makes eye contact, and clearly thinks to himself Hmm… I guess I am. The little one reaches up, twists their own head back to an acceptable angle, then stands and runs away.
“So anyway, what do you think about the Porzingis trade?” your friend asks you. He has moved on. That was nothing.
I’ve always been so impressed by that.
