Letter to My Kids Again.

I don’t know the last time I had a dream where you were in it. Am I already forgetting you before you even happen?

I wish I could say this is the first time I have thought about leaving you in my thoughts, but it’s not. In fact, it’s happened a hell of a lot more recently.

I don’t know what this means. I’ll probably laugh about it with your mom one day. I’ll say, “Babe, you know that I once thought I didn’t want kids?” then she’ll tell me something stupid like, “Just wait until they start leaving us and break your heart.”

I say it’s stupid because I have yet to hold you in my arms, and I’m already afraid of the day when I can no longer carry you.

Maybe I’ll let that be my motivation at the gym later tonight. I guess it should motivate me to help you eat better. So, I’m sure I’ll say this to you when you’re around, but I guess this could be the first time. There’s food at the house.

Yeah, I wouldn’t say I liked it when my parents used to say that to me, too. Chicken nuggets were clutch now and then, but I want to hold you in the air until you’re at least fifteen. Is that a lot to ask?

Yea, you might be embarrassed, but that doesn’t matter. I’m ready to be an embarrassing dad. Because I pay the bills around this place, you get to live comfortably.

Do you know what I thought about today? I want to show you how to ride the bus when you’re young. So, that means I have to know how to ride the bus soon. Maybe I’ll start practicing over the next week.

I could make that a monthly thing. We could act like we’re broke.

Oh yeah, about money. I don’t think I’ll have much when you’re a kid. Not that I can’t. But your dad has never been one to chase money. He’s been pretty lucky. He’s never been without it, though, so I guess that’s an excellent trait for your dad to have.

I haven’t thought about you in a little bit, and I’m running out of names because everyone keeps taking the ones in mind. I guess me and your mom will figure that out sooner rather than later.

I can’t wait to see you.