When I found out you were actually growing into more than a simple idea, I brought you a ring of keys.
Small, colorful, plastic keys.
They were $2.99 and my order came to $13.76 after I bought a case of beer and drank in the news of new news...
I was to be a dad.
The simple reason behind me purchasing the plastic toy was that keys are symbolic.
They open doors. They start cars. They get you to, and into, places.
I wanted you to have every door unlocked for you.
News spread of you, and, eventually, stuff piled up. Diapers. Toys. Bottles. Furniture.
Together, your mommy and I changed our habits to prepare for you. We were ready to start a nest.
Weeks went by and the congratulations kept coming in.
How will I coach you through your first bully? How will your mom coach you into getting back on the bike after your first...second...third fall? How will I explain loss to you? Am I even cut out for this dad thing?
Meanwhile, you grew