happy father's day

This morning, I woke up to a soft hand gently brushing hair off of my forehead and a voice quietly whispering in my ear as the speaker cuddled up next to me. This, of course, all sounds highly romantic (ok, maybe a little sketchy, but we'll pretend "romantic" for a moment) and my idealistic, daydreaming self of only last night would have thought so too. But out of the dreamy haze emerge the more pertinent details: the time of "morning" was actually before the sun rose, the hand belonged to the 4-year-old I was babysitting, and the voice in my ear said, "I'm starrrrrving! Come fix me breakfast!" Not at all romantic. In fact, I had to realize that I will never be able to experience an affectionate moment with anyone who is waking me up. I think this girl is cute and I was completely concerned with caring for her while her mother was out of town, but I can tell you that my first thoughts as I "came to" had absolutely nothing to do with happiness, peace, or her welfare.

I recounted this story to my father later, including the part where I gently suggested (ok, grumpily grunted) that she go back to bed, and her response of sitting on the couch outside my door singing, "I am hungry, I am hungry, lalalala, hungry hungry hungry." He informed me that this was exactly something I would have done as a kid (whereas my brother, the more direct of the two of us, would have merely stood and breathed down my dad's neck until he got what he wanted.) I then wished him happy father's day, hung up the phone, and decided that I needed to record this moment for the next time I think I am ready to have kids.

And just to drive the point home, I'm sleeping until 10 tomorrow. Happy Father's Day.