A Happy Father's Day Story
*** Something I copied from one of my favorite blogs. I made some major major modifications though. I changed the ending and some circumstances, I also made the story and the conversation longer. We'll basically, I stole his idea and made it mine. Plagiarism ikaw ba yan? ***
First, I feel the bed bounce. Then, I hear a voice, his voice. “Wake up dad! Wake up dad! Wake up dad,” he says with an urgency only a seven year old can generate. The bedsprings squeak underneath me.
I half-open my eyes. There he is, Sean, my son, my very reason I open my eyes every morning, jumping on the mattress like a trampoline artist. “Stop that,” I say gently. He stops, sits astride my belly, and forces my eyes wide open with his little fingers.
“Happy fathers day, dad,” he says. Then he kisses my left and right cheek, leaving a warm seal of saliva on both surfaces.
"Thank you." Noticing the absence of my langga in the room, I ask him, "Where’s your other dad? Have you greeted him?”
“I did. He's in the kitchen making breakfast. He asked me to wake you up. Or else, we might be late…”
As he spoke, I notice for the first time that the edge of his left eyebrow is turned slightly upward. Just like langga's. This brings my tally of Traits Sean Inherited From Langga to nineteen. And this is always a source of good fun between me and his other dad. I would always say, "He can have your looks but the hell I'll fight tooth and nails so he'll have my brains. And Langga would always concede. Hahaha!
. "At least we know he'll end up a handsome guy," langga once said. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked, feigning indignation.
“… late for our trip to the beach later. Dad says that we still have to pass by the grocery to buy stuff for our barbecue. Can I get a gum? Puhlease? Or a new toy car? King ate the last one you got me."
"Of course, but you have to promise me to clean up everytime after playing, ok? You know that dog chews just about anything." I said.
"Ok, I pwamis." With his right hand raised to a pledge.
"I love you. Do you love Daddy too?"
"Of course! Why do you always ask that? Just like Daddy!"
Because I want to know that you love me. Because I would die if I lose you. Because I want to be assured that you are mine. Even if you're not, wholly. I told myself.
"Because - well, just because! Why? Can't daddies ask questions like that?"
"You can! Uhm, dad..."
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, young man." Then I grabbed him by his tiny waist and gave him the biggest hug and a smooch.
"Dad! Stop it. You're tickling me." He bellowed.
Even the way he speaks reminds me of my langga.
I let him go and he started jumping up and down again. "Hurry up Dad! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" he was saying in a sing-song.
I checked the clock. It says: “5:15 a.m. June 15, 2011.
I looked at him and saw my life - this little person jumping up and down changed my life, the course of my history. And I told myself - whoever is up there that made this possible, I owe you a lot. Thank you.
“Don’t worry,” I tell my son. “We have plenty of time.”
posted by Lexie at
2:01 AM
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