My son will turn three in about a week. I will turn 34 in 4 months. Most of the time I find myself behaving no more mature than he is capable of. There are things I’m clearly more advanced than he is: I can tie my own shoes, not shit in my pants, and reach things above 4 feet without a chair. I also have much better tastes in music and movies.
My emotional maturity is closer to his than I’d like it to be. I still get upset easily at little things around me, and I find myself just as impatient as he is. He paints better than me, and he has become more adept with a bicycle in the past month than I have ever, in my life. He also beats me at face-wrestling whenever he challenges me. In no time, I expect this kid to be writing, and it won’t be hard to write better than his dad. Goddamn it.
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