You’ll be the strict one, I say to him. What makes you think that? he asks mildly. I don’t know, I say, I just think you will. We’ll see, he says.
We’re going camping on Memorial Day weekend, he says. Ok, I say. Better get him used to it early. This kid better like camping, my sister pipes up. And Boy Scouts. Or he’s going to have a pretty miserable life. We agree.
I want this one, he declares with enthusiasm. Why, I ask, laughing. Look, he says – it’s got an octopus, and a shark, and a fish. It’s got stuff on it that he can look at while he’s in the crib. He can learn about under the sea animals. We can teach him about starfish. Ok, I say. We’ll get it. We should take him to a real aquarium, when he’s old enough. Yes, he says. That’ll be fun.
Um, that’s got some pretty garish colors. I know, I say, but look – this thing spins, and that thing sproings, and this thing over here has a mirror. It’s a learning toy. It’s huge, he protests, it will take up our whole living room, and be, well, garish. I say, you aren’t gonna care so much when you can’t think straight because he won’t stop getting into things. This is a good way to trap him, keep him occupied. It’ll be a lifesaver, trust me. Ok, he reluctantly agrees, and what’s this about getting into things? They don’t crawl til they’re, like, two years old, right?
If we live in a state with a good public university, I hope he wants to go there, he says. Should we start a college fund, I ask? Should we, he asks? Let’s google it and see. “College+Costs+Class+of+2026” Wow. I need a drink. Me, too. Have enough of ‘em now, he says, and we won’t have to worry about him being smart enough to go to college. Oh, yeah. Good plan.
I day dream about him all the time, I sigh. Getting a first look, seeing what he looks like. Also, holding him when he’s two and sweaty-browed and sleeping. Teaching him to read when he’s four. Sending a postcard to his summer camp when he’s a little older. I don’t really think about that much, he says. It hasn’t totally hit me yet. Ah well, I remark, you don’t have the constant physical reminder. That’s true. Anyway, I say, I wonder who he’ll look like? You, he says. You, I say.