Dad Entry #63

Megan loves giraffes. We were at ‘Reptile-Fest’ surrounded by snakes and lizards, and Megan said, “I wonder if they have baby giraffes here.” Sweet thing. It was a serious inquiry so I gave it a sincere answer. “No Baby, just reptiles. Turtles, frogs, gators and snakes. But this is a big gym, the ceiling is high enough for giraffes.” We were in the UIC PE building (University of Illinois at Chicago Physical Education). Meggie knows what a reptile is, and therefore knows that a giraffe is not one; I think she simply, while surrounded by animals, succumbed to a moment of hopeful delight.

Michael started T-ball again. I am in China so I missed the first practice, but Sara told me he is by far the tallest kid on the team. He’s a big dude. But a sensitive one. I think that’s a good combo.

Sometimes when I plop myself down on the couch next to Meg she says, “No Daddy, you’ll sit on my dress.” And I think, where was this concern for your princess dress when you dripped waffle syrup on it at breakfast, and wiped Cheeto cheese on it at lunch?

I mentioned this already, but Meggie can’t wait to be 6 years old. I think her observations of Michael indicate the big ‘6’ is a breakthrough year. A real milestone. I’m smiling, but I also realize the difference between 4 and 6 is a 50% increase in lifespan. That’s nothing to sneeze at. It’s the same, by that measure, as the difference between 20 and 30. Would you like me to tell you about that?! And the ripe age of 6 really did mean big things for Michael; he started 1st grade, learned to read (even ‘chapter books’!), and is at school for a full day now (Meggie misses him in the afternoons). Michael also played on a T-ball team (Meggie loves to play ball too), went to Minnesota by himself for several days with Gramma and Papa, and possibly has other unique privileges or status I just can’t perceive or understand, even when I try to think like a 4-year-old. You bet, easy for me. But whatever the hierarchy or progression – or giant chasm! – that separates a 4- and 6-year-old, Meggie is feeling the gravity of it; she wants badly to cross, to leap! She says, “I want to be 6.” I know, Sweetheart, I want to be 25. When does it change, anyway; when do we go from wanting more years to wanting less?