It's A Dad One

I didn't want to turn this blog into a big "I'm a dad" fest. But as being a father is now one of the biggest factors of my life, it is understandably going to sneak in from time to time. Today's is going to focus on fatherhood, fatherhood and Frosted Mini-Wheats.

Here is the little man about to be fed to a pack of wild tulips:


We were backstage just before going out to do one of the roughest evenings of theater I have ever experienced; rough, rough audience - seriously had knives and socks filled with nickels... rough. Anyway, one of my fellow actors asked if I had gone to see Grindhouse and my reply was that no, my movie going days are pretty much on hold for the time being. She asked why, I let her know that I had a 4 1/2 month old at home, and she gave me that same look I tend to get when people hear I have a child. It's a raw look of sheer disbelief, a look that succinctly asks, "You? You're responsible for a child?"

I also find that after the shock has worn off, and when people stop to think about it a little, they come back with a, "I bet you're a good dad."

Well, I'm hoping so, I'm trying. I thought about it yesterday and realized that in the movie of my life, I never want to have that hackneyed moment of telling my grown child, "I know I wasn't a good father." If there's nothing else I can do for Riley, besides trying to show him that life is a grand and funny adventure, it's to have him know that he is loved and loved fiercely.

The list of things breaking my heart at the moment:
Him going from full on scream to focused attention when I come into his room and play a little acoustic guitar.
The soft little murmurs and clicks that are his hard fought proto words. (The new development of the high pitched shriek can be phased out though).
That smile that would have me running full bore into unrelenting danger just to see him do it again.

Oh yeah, and Frosted Mini-Wheats... I like 'em. It was honestly a bit of a ruse, I didn't have anything about Frosted Mini-Wheats.