Post date: Mar 15, 2011 8:19:47 PM
Last night my son and I laid in bed together, side by side. We were up later than we should have been. He intently watched and "directed" me as I played Pokemon Black. "Throw a Pokeball! Get that Timburr!"
It made me think about how to his almost-four-year-old mind, I'm still a hero. He doesn't yet understand I have faults and can't do everything. He turns to me whenever he needs help because, as one of his parents, he believes I can fix whatever is wrong.
It won't be long before he starts noticing that his dad doesn't have everything figured out. I make mistakes and there are things I am incapable of. By the time he's in middle school, he'll probably even see me as annoying or embarassing as most kids that age do of their parents.
But I'm sure he'll always know I love him and do my best for him, even if I'm not perfect. And I have a feeling part of him will always remember the little moments from when he was young, like cheering me on as we snuggled under the covers battling a tough Gym Leader long past our bedtimes.