Parenting is a joy with you, Conor. No sarcasm in that statement. Or that one. You are a joy... Still, you have your moments. This phase of the game sees you beginning to understand that in fact, you are more than capable of expressing your own free will; albeit in a conduct becoming an 18 month old... Fits.
They're rare, but they are noticeable... There's certainly nothing wrong with your pipes. When you feel as though you need to get some attention, there's little doubt as to your intent. The windows actually shake! It's something else. Still, you're also getting a firm grip on what is right, and what is wrong.
Early this evening while I was preparing our dinner, I heard the shuffling of what sounded like glass across wood. And then it happened... SMASH!!! Unfortunately one of the Absinth lids on the glassware set your Grandpa K9 got me for Christmas fell victim to a short drop and a sudden stop. Glass went EVERYWHERE! Of course I reacted by shouting your name rather loudly, but I was far more concerned about you amongst a sea of busted glass than I was the item itself. Absolutely anything can be replaced, but not you, Boy'O. Anyway, when the glass broke and I shouted your name, you calmly turned and walked down the hall and sat down on the lowest step with a look of both regret and concern. It was perhaps the sweetest thing you've ever done.
I walked over to you and knelt down, told you that it was all going to be okay but that you have to be careful and not touch things that aren't for you - as if you were going to understand anything but my tone. Still, you looked me square in the eye and followed along, and when I was done I kissed your cheek, and you looked back at me and said "ball?" And just like that, all's forgiven.
Parenting is a joy with you, Conor. My greatest joy... Thank you, Son.
I love you,
-Dad
