A letter from Daddy

My dear, 

You gave mom and dad quite a scare. Three pounds and dipping down into the high twos. Your legs like spindles. Your belly looked swollen, but not like after thanksgiving dinner. Now you’re a juicy pear, with cheeks of rouge covered in fuzz! What a difference nine months and milk on tap makes! I am so proud of you. You little fighter, you. 

I’ll tell you what else. You continue to scare me. Sometimes I get afraid that you’ll flip over in the crib and get caught up. I hear a whimper at half past three, and I know I’m being foolish. I get up anyway. I have to make sure. You are mine, and nothing is going to happen to you. Not on my watch.  

Truthfully, I’m surprised I love you this much. Before you came I used to think about how I would love you and take care of you, but I had no idea how special to me you would become. When you came home I became so interested in you that I would sit and just stare at you. And it never gets old. It’s a strange thing to look at another person and see yourself. And not any of shadier things I know about me. In your face, I see the best of me.  

Most of all, I can’t wait for you to talk to me. I want you to tell me you love me. I will dissolve in tears on that day. To have my love for you reciprocated. I know that God feels great pleasure when we tell him we love him. Though I am not much like God, I will share in this Fatherly pleasure.

I love you half-pint. 

Love, 

Daddy.