Daddy's Boy

August had been a particularly difficult month at work. Much like May, June and July had been. Close to how March and April had been. And pretty much the way January and February had been. And just when things are bad, there is always room for them to get worst.

So when Mae called a couple of weeks ago, I wasn't expecting much. Probably another errand she wanted me to run, I thought, mildly resentfully. (only mildly, mind you *ahem*)

"Honey," she was all excited, "your son just called you Daddy!"

"Aiks! But I wasn't even there," I said. As far as I was concerned, it doesn't really count if the boy doesn't understand that "Daddy" meant me. "But he does!!!" Mae protested.

Turns out that Jesse was monkeying around our bookshelf when he stumbled upon an old photo of him as a wee little baby lying on my chest. He showed it to Mommy and as he pointed me out, he said, "Daddy!"

It's taken a long while but yes, my boy's finally gotten it. "Daddy!" He's been saying it loud and proud, knowing consciously at last, that the word meant me.

*sniff*

he ain't ugly, he's my daddy