Yesterday I was cleaning up Parker's room as he lay in bed to take a nap. I was holding a little dinosaur that my father gave him the one of two times he has seen him. He looks at me and says, "Mommy, who gave me this"
Me "I don't know."
P " Yes you do."
Me "My dad"
P "Yep and he plays golf"
Me "Yes he does"
P "I wish he would come see me again"
Me "Well, he is not like your papaw. (jers dad) He doesn't come around much. My dad didn't live with me when I was a little girl."
P (sad voice ) "Oh."
The he rolled over hugging that dinosaur. I could feel myself tearing up. Does that stuff ever go away?
Me "I don't know."
P " Yes you do."
Me "My dad"
P "Yep and he plays golf"
Me "Yes he does"
P "I wish he would come see me again"
Me "Well, he is not like your papaw. (jers dad) He doesn't come around much. My dad didn't live with me when I was a little girl."
P (sad voice ) "Oh."
The he rolled over hugging that dinosaur. I could feel myself tearing up. Does that stuff ever go away?