Entry #6

On Your Birth

You were born ten days ago. It is Christmas, 2009.
You are sitting on my lap as I type this. You are very small.

So far, most all you do is eat, sleep, poop, pee, and cry.
Sometimes when you fuss, I sing you silly rap songs.

I like you very much.


Some Things You Should Know

You were born on a very cold day. It hadn't really snowed all winter long until you decided you were coming. And then it fell hard. The snow piled quickly and coated the city, like a gingerbread house if the baker got overzealous and frosted everything in thick sugary globs. You are a child of the ice and snow and cold. You are also tardy, but worth the wait.

I was the first living person you looked at. We will always prefer to talk to each other with our eyes.

Five is your lucky number. It will follow you for your entire life.

Elephants are my favorite animal. I will make you like them because I often dream that I am one and I think that means something.

When they were stitching up my wife/your mum, they bundled you up and gave you to me and made us wait in a pale green room. I pulled you very close and whispered to you. I made you three promises. And although that moment might sound very cliched and staged, I assure you it was very real and I was very genuine. The promises are between you and me and I will keep them. I'll make certain.