Recently my oldest son, Brennan (2 yrs), has occasionally been coming out of his room at nap time or bedtime saying,
“Daddy! Scared…berry scared!”
I look up to the top of the stairs, where he’ll inevitably be standing, and I can see him trembling with lips pouting. Like any concerned parent, I make my way up to him and ask,
“What are you scared of?”
To which he replies,
“Da birds…scared-ed da birds”
I’ll admit it. I don’t like to see my son like that, and it even pangs me to write about it. But I do enjoy the fact that even in this moment of concern,
- He calls for me
- He holds me tightly when I reach him
- I make everything better so he can go to sleep
So in a way, I appreciate “da birds,” wherever they are. I still haven’t seen “da birds” or even know what he may be referring to. But I’ll take any opportunity to be what only I can be for him…
Daddy