There is little that brings me as much joy as the sound of my toddler’s chunky legs on our parquet floors as he makes that sharp right at the foyer and heads toward his shoes. The mere mention of the word “outside” and this kid is ready to go.
Now I was potentially going to be the father of a child the world would always clearly see. Goal, right? But as he looked back at me from that photo, it only took a millisecond to readjust my own vision to see what a gift he was. So, we said yes. Then, once he was finally in my arms, the only emotion I felt was unconditional love. He was as perfect as perfect could be.I guess I could now stop pushing Black hair care videos on my husband.
scramble around on his own. But after 30 minutes of exchanging him back and forth, we eventually put him down, which prompted him to want to hold both our hands. As we strolled linked together competing for Best in Show, a woman jumped out in front of us in that unnerving Jack Ruby sort of way and asked if she could take our picture. I told her no and picked the little guy back up for the remainder of meandering through the sweet corn, soaps and succulents.
What’s that old saying? You know who your friends are when you adopt a white baby? But big ups to the Black meter maid in Santa Monica who made it a point to take a second from the ticket she was writing across the street to shout out, “I see you, Dad.” She made my heart swell that day and I will never forget her because in that moment all I was thinking was that I was a horrible father for having forgotten to pack the lovey.
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