Don't go daddy.

We celebrated my son Sammy's third birthday yesterday. Nothing lavish. In fact, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary at all. We discussed it and came to the conclusion that his life was already full and needed no hoopla to make the day special. There were already a bunch of kids over. The mid day snack was simply made birthdayish by adding candles on the cupcakes.

The plans for dinner were to have Walter over, as we do every Wednesday. He called to cancel. "Waiting for a truck" or something like that. We were planning all of Sammy's favourites. Pickles, mashed potatoes, and chocolate milk. There were a few other grown up things thrown in, but the essentials were covered. We were all itching to dive into the feast. Crunchy pickles and smooth mashed earth apples. Smacking and crunching noises came from around the table. Delightful.

Some time for play and then it's off to bed. "Me have to go pee daddy." "O.K. Sammy lets go." I set him down on the throne and take a step towards the door. "Don't go daddy." "O.K. Sammy. Daddy will stay right here." He finishes in no seconds flat and I help him off. Pull up the gitch and away he goes, off to bed. A hug and a kiss is always in order. I pray with him every night. I try to pray the most sincere and heartfelt prayer I can muster. I feel that if we would only be honest with God, more would be communicated...both ways.

Before I take any steps toward the door, I turn off the lamp and I say I love you. Even though I walk through his door, I want my son to know that daddy will always be right here.