The Bonding Time

It was a relaxing afternoon. I was kicked back in the recliner, reading a book with Old Time Radio playing in the background.

I wore a T-shirt, my favorite pair of pajama pants, over which I had placed a handmade crocheted burnt orange, cream, and gray colored baby blanket.

I heard Son #1 bound out of bed after taking his usual thirty-second nap.

He bounded into the living room wearing a warm smile on his face — proud that he had taken a short nap. Yet prouder that he was now awake like the rest of the world. It’s hard for little fellas to sleep while the sun is shining outside.

I figured we could have some father/son time while the others were finishing out their naps, so I went to the kitchen, poured two bowls of cheese crackers, and handed him one of the bowls. He went to the living room.

I put the crackers away and walked into the living room to join him.

He was sitting in my recliner. He had pulled the burnt-orange, cream, and gray colored baby blanket over his legs, and he was lounging like he owned the Northern Hemisphere.
I chuckled to myself. I felt like I was looking at a three-year-old me. I couldn’t help but smile.

I sat on the couch next to the recliner while he munched on crackers and rocked in the rocking chair.

“Hey, Daddy.”

“What?”

“Hand me my drink, please.”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

You’re welcome.”

A minute of rocking goes by.

“Hey, Dad.”

“What?”

“My blanket is falling down.”

“Well, pull it up.”

“But my hands are full.” He held his bowl of crackers in one hand and his drink in the other.

His small frame in that large recliner allowed a one-foot gap between him and the arm of the chair. There was ample space in which to put a small bowl or his personal lidded children’s cup.

“Well, put something down and pull it up.”

He sighed. “Come on, man!” His voice raised to a pitch slightly above exasperated. “Just pull up the blanket for me.”

After I stopped laughing, I reached over and helped him out.

“Thanks, man. I sure do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, Son.” I picked up my drink and took a long swig.

He watched me. After I finished, he held out his cup, looked at me sideways, and smiled. “The game’s afoot! Cheers!”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I laughed nonetheless.

He kept rocking, and the blanket kept sliding down. Finally, it fell to the floor, and since he didn’t have a good hold on his bowl, the chips fell onto the floor.

He looked at me and smiled an ornery smile, “Uh-oh, Dad! The ants are coming!”

That boy.

to the fathers and sons,
– Caleb