“No school tomorrow, Daddy?” he said.
“Yeah, you have school tomorrow. And I have to go to work.”
“When I get to be a really, really, really big boy, I’m going to work, too.”
“And you can be whatever you want to be when you go to work.”
“Daddy, I want to be just like you.”
I was momentarily speechless. Then I recovered (slightly) and said:
“You can do that, too, but you can also be whatever you want.”
“I want to be just like you, Daddy.”
“That’s really sweet, buddy.”
That was a surreal moment. I told Kelly about it immediately afterward, but it still stuck with me this morning. I can remember telling my dad–when I wasn’t much older than the Little Man is right now–that I never wanted to call him “Dad.” I would always call him “Daddy.” Of course, that didn’t last, but I can remember the sincerity of my statement when I made it.
And I’m sure the Little Man was just as sincere.