Gut Rumbles

February 29, 2008

I do it

Originally published July 12, 2003

I tell my son that I love him. I'm pretty sure he knows it, but I tell him anyway, just to make sure.

He came in all sweaty and dirty from playing football in the yard today and asked for something to drink. I said, "There's your cup. You know where the ice and the water are." He fixed himself a drink and came to sit next to me.

"Whatcha watchin, daddy?"

"The greatest sports photographs of all time, or something like that on HBO."

"Is it good?"

"It beats having a tooth pulled."

He leaned against me and sipped his ice water. His hand found its way to my shoulder while he watched what I was watching. I waited for him to set the cup on the coffee table before I grabbed him in a bear-hug and bearded his cheek. He started giggling and squirming.

"I LOVE YOU, young man!" I said, as I gave him a juicy Wet Willie with lots of slobber.

"I love you TOO, daddy!" he giggled. "Now LET ME GO!" I took an elbow to the head, but I paid him back with a goosing to the armpit while I was careful to protect my tender genitals.

"Who is TALL DOG?" I demanded.

"YOU ARE," he replied.

"What are the magic words?"


I let him go after that. He finished his water and went back outside to play. But he stopped in the front doorway on the way out and said, "I LIED! I AM TALL DOG! BWHAHAHAHAH!!!" Then, he slammed the door and ran away.

That's my boy.

My father never told me that he loved me. I know that he did, but he never said it. He SHOWED it, but he never spoke those words to me.

I won't make that mistake with my son.

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