Most of the time when Rakes and I are watching the game together he's either reading or playing his DS while he's watching. Invariably, someone will crank a ball into the outfield that I'm pretty sure is gone and I'll tap him on the leg and say "Rakes, RAkes, RAKes, RAKEs, RAKES!", he'll look up, grin from ear to ear, and give me a high five.Today, when Pedie hit his moon shot to center field I was doing a cross word puzzle and listening to DO and Remy. Rakes started tapping ME on the leg and going "Dad, DAd, DAD!!!" and it was my turn to give HIM a high five.
You may not get it from my various posts about peeing and teenagers and shots to the marbles but the greatest gift I've ever been given are my three little monsters. And being a Dad is the best job anyone could ever have.
Even better than playing for the Sox.
Happy Father's Day.
2 comments:
They are NOT monsters. Dennis the Menace is more like it. Especially the cute one that calls people at unearthly hours on Sunday morning. :)
Happy father's day, little brother.
Thanks, Sis.
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