And I thought: Oh. There it is. Entry #315.
But last Christmas, I came home late. He was asleep on the couch, the TV murmuring an old Western, his reading glasses still on his face. I pulled the blanket up to his chin, and for a second, I just looked at him. 315. Dad Crush
I kissed his forehead. He stirred, mumbled, “Love you, kid.” And I thought: Oh
Later, we floated in the middle of the water, treading gently. He told me about the first time he held me—how I fit in the palm of his hand like a little burrito, how he was terrified he’d drop me. I laughed and splashed him. He splashed back. the TV murmuring an old Western