Dear Sir,
If I happen to be on time to my 8:30 zumba class on Monday mornings, I get stopped by the mid-sized, yellow school bus that picks up your son. Twice now this has happened.
The first time you were in full suit and tie. This week you were in workout attire. Perhaps you had the day off and were off to a zumba class of your own. Each time, as your son crosses the road, I look at you and see a proud, proud parent. The love you have for your son is practically visible as it radiates off of you. I almost want to get out of the car so you can tell me, “see that kid there? That’s my son. He’s the best.” You can tell you want to.
Someday, Little Dude is going to have his first trombone recital, then take the prettiest girl to prom, then become president of his fraternity. This will be followed by his MBA graduation, a wedding day, and one or two times in a hospital when his babies are born. I know you are going to be standing there at each of these events with your chest puffed out like the proud papa you are since you show so much on a standard Monday morning.
I had a great relationship with my dad and it was because he was like you. Any person stuck in a line with him at the grocery store knew about what I did that day, no matter how childish or immaterial. Your son is going to be so proud of you, too and tell all the people in HIS grocery line about you someday. Just wait.
My little lady may only be three months old, but already my heart bursts with pride when she does something new. She’s not taking on the world yet, but she has rolled over all by herself! And slept through the night in her big girl crib! And learned how to drink a bottle without getting milk all over hell! She’s amazing. I can’t wait for all of the big events that are going to happen in her life, but I’m taking that 14 seconds I have to stop on Monday mornings for your guy to get his ride to school to remind me to enjoy all of these little moments, too.
Thank you!
Another Proud Parent
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