Seven years ago, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon this happened. Seven years ago, throughout the day, and in the middle of the night this happened.
My dad used to call me on March 1st and wish me a Happy Father's Day because it "is the anniversary of when you became a dad." Seven years ago Maxfield was born. Seven years ago I became a dad.
To celebrate Max's Birthday we took Max, a few of his friends, and Wyatt to a Rock Climbing Gym. Max and his buddies put on harnesses and helmets and had an hour to climb and jump and flip and learn to rock climb.
As a "Daddy Blogger" I am supposed to write a heart touching post using analogies and metaphors about how watching Max rock climb is kind of like life, letting him go, trusting him, watching him climb and fail only to try again, being worried about him falling and getting hurt, using the support rope and holding it too tightly,
making sure he accomplishes his goals and reaches the top.But I didn't think about any of those things at the Rock Climbing Gym. The truth be told the only thing I was thinking about was,
"Damn, my kids are the cutest rock climbers ever."
I am not a very good Daddy Blogger.