Back during my active parenting days, when things would get hairy, (I remember 12, 13, and 14 most acutely), I used to tell my son that my fondest prayer was that one day, he’d grow up and have a son just like him.
Sometimes God answers prayers, and sometimes, She doubles up on them. See the photo above? Someone taught the grandbaby (I think it was his other grandma) that if he’s annoyed, he should wrinkle up his nose and take sharp, shallow breaths through it. At the grandbaby’s recent birthday party — which he shared with his twin sister — the grandbaby in question got wiggly, and when his father tried to pick him up, he did that nose thing.
Back when his father was small and he’d get wiggly and someone would try to distract him, he didn’t do a nose thing, but as soon as he was verbal, he’d stick out his lower lip and say emphatically, “Not happy.”
Below is the girl-baby. She looks like her classically-beautiful mom, and she can work a room with the best of them. She has this adorable little giggle, and she likes to be swung around. She can also put her little foot down and not be moved. She shares that with her father.
(Thank you, God, for answering my prayers in full and then some.)
These babies sometimes act so much like their father that when I pick one up, I feel like I’m reaching back through time. Having my memory jogged so often can make a granny feel that you can go home again, maybe go back, show some patience, and do it right this time.
Today is my son’s birthday (and yes, he was born on a Friday the 13th, too). He is an awesome father, and a fine human being. And yes: I hope all his children turn out just like him.