My wife said something quite special to me today. She said, “What's it like having someone think you're the coolest guy in the world?”
That was certainly a great compliment to me, that my son thinks so highly of me.
Maybe she's right. I'm not trying to appear modest; I simply don't think about my status in my son's eyes. As long as he loves and respects me, all is good in the world. Eating my cooking is nice, too.
The truth is, he does emulate my actions. He always wants to be with me. He is sad to see me leave and happy to see me return. He is angry when I have to divert attention from him at any time during the day (unless he's watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Since I'm a bleeding-heart hippie libertarian, I don't let the TV babysit.)
I can't make a pot of soup without him hitting my hip or butt to gain my attention.
We can make each other laugh and cry. If I wasn't so concerned with keeping a certain distance, I would say that we're best friends.
But that's how best friends think of each other. I also think he's the best kid in the world (like most parents). Does he drive me crazy with his stubbornness and his insanity? All the time. Do I make him crazy driving all over the place to go shopping every other day? I'm sure.
In spite of these exceptions we are grateful to have one another. We play hockey almost every day, if not every day. His new thing is asking me to play Wii – and he just sits and watches me play. He gets pissed when I say it's time to turn it off! (And I want to keep playing, but know the better of it.) We eat together at home and in restaurants.
I receive consistent compliments about him and consider that a success of our parenting.
To be the coolest guy in the world? It's the fruit of waking up in the morning.