Page 27

He stands up and moves between my legs to throw his little arms around me. I hold him as close as I can, the sinking feeling in my stomach growing. I hate seeing him in pain, but at the moment, I can’t fix it for him.
I’m his father. I should be able to fix fucking anything for him.
Before Sean was born, I hated the physical contact. I couldn’t understand the need to be close to any human beings. I did it out of necessity at times, but it always left me feeling hollow.
But since my son’s been born, there’s this space in my heart that he occupies that helps me to somehow feel full. I felt empty for more than half my life and now I have Sean. I’ll do anything to ensure he has a better childhood than I had growing up.
I’m just terrified that the blocks are already in place and history is starting to repeat itself.
After I assure him and ensure that everything will be okay, he starts telling me about a book he read.
“It’s about a girl that rescues a bunch of dogs and takes them into her house and gives them really nice names, like Olaf and Pinocchio and Richard,” he says with a giggle. “Can you believe that, Dad? Richard is Mommy’s dad’s name.”
“Yeah, cool,” I murmur distractedly, my mind still fixed on his earlier revelation.
“Dad, can we get a dog?” he asks. “I want a dog.”
That draws my attention. I arch an eyebrow. “Sean, you can barely take care of yourself. How will you take care of a dog?”
“I can take care of myself,” he argues.
“You can’t even bathe yourself,” I tease. “Who’s going to bathe the dog?”
He pauses, taking the time to think about the question. Finally, he beams.
“My nanny will bathe the dog, too. Just like she does me.”
I roll my eyes. “Bud, you can’t go through life expecting people to do things for you. You need to learn how to take responsibility for your stuff. For example, you can learn to put your socks away and into the laundry basket. And you can’t always leave your toys and your books wherever you like.”
One thing about my son, he’s going to quietly dissect your every sentence. If he doesn’t know something, he asks before giving his own reply. He’s brilliant, really. I have no doubt he’ll do great things.
“But we have people that do all those things for me,” he says quietly.
Yeah, no.
“Sure you do. And you’re so incredibly lucky to be in this position. But you should also know how to take care of yourself. At the end of the day, the only person you can depend on is yourself.”
“Can’t I depend on you and Mommy?”
I exhales softly. “Yeah, of course you can. Always.”
“So, does that mean you can take care of my dog?” he asks excitedly.
I chuckle. “That’s not where I wanted this conversation to go.”
I really hope he learned something from that. He’s probably too young to fully understand, but we’ve got time.
“Can we please get a dog, Daddy? Please.”
His green eyes go wide as he looks at me pleadingly. I inwardly groan.
“Tell you what, Sean. I’ll consider your request.”
“Does that mean you will?” he asks hopefully.
“Maybe.”
He fist bumps the air. “Yay. I’m getting a dog!”