It’s about time for an update. I’m sorry for not writing here for such a long time. the truth is that we’ve all been so busy living, you included, and sometimes living takes the place of writing [can you believe I said that??].
I’ll start with the end and work backwards.
Right now you’ve got a runny tummy. The amount of gooey stuff coming out of you is unbelievably impressive. Even though you’re obviously not feeling very well, you’re stoic. It’s clear that you’re stoic; even when you’re miserable you don’t make a scene. Not like me. When I’m sick I’m miserable and I make a scene. Because of your stomach/ nappy situation you have been temporarily suspended from nursery school. Good, you’re already following in my footsteps [I was expelled from nursery school for self-defense].
You simply love the beach. You love riding in the bike seat to the beach; you love playing in the sand, and you love the shallow water. The pool not so much — you’re more a beach boy. I can’t tell you how much fun Your Mother and I have with you at the beach. Hey, if we ever forget that, remind us OK?
Your morning routine is the envy of all writers: you wake up, make us aware that you’re up, and as we take you out of bed and put you on the floor you head to the computer for your morning writing session. I open up a Word document for you and you type. Then you point to the office phone; we give it to you and you check your messages. Once that’s done you demand to be taken to the side table where you can climb up to the fax machine to see if anything came for you overnight. If there’s nothing there you check the paper tray to see if there’s paper in there. If there isn’t, you give us a look. Like, where’s the paper?
Business over you head over to the kitchen to destroy it.
Once you’ve destroyed the kitchen you get onto your red truck and head for the door. Truth is, if you weren’t a little baby, one could mistake you for a very busy businessman who needs to get going; places to go, people to meet.
You’re the object of a titanic battle of the sexes at home. Your Mother puts little elastics in your hair to keep it out of your eyes, especially when you sweat. And this makes you look like a girl. And because you are so beautiful, people already think you’re a girl. Now with the elastics you really look like a girl. Or maybe you look like one of those boys who look so good that they can pull off the girl look. Whatever. I make sure there are always lots of cars and trucks around the house for you to play with. Also, I’m very glad to say that you love sitting on motorbikes wherever you see them. But now your grandmother has bought you a little pink pram….things are tough in this house sometimes my little man.
And the most important for last: you’re going to be a big brother soon. Please God all goes well with Your Mother’s pregnancy and your little sister should be joining us sometime around the end of the year. This is big, for all of us, and most of all for you little sister. Right now I can’t imagine you as a big brother — you are so independent, you order us all around, you go where you want, open what you want, take out what you want, put whatever you want in your mouth. I can’t imagine you looking over a little sister, but that is what you’ll do. That’s what it means to be a brother: you will always be responsible for your sister.
There’s a famous line in the Torah that someone said when God asked him where his brother was. The man [who was wicked and didn’t want to own up] said: What, am I my brother’s keeper? As if he was saying: What do you want from me? I’m not responsible for my brother!
But the truth is: yes, you are your sister’s keeper. Always and forever.
Love you.
Dad.
MonkeyPuppies 