I remember when I was a young Dad (not that I'm an old geezer) and had by first little boy. One of the first purchases for Christmas was a baseball bat and mitt (glove), basketball hoop and ball. I was so excited for this chubby little blob of a boy to grow up and play catch with me. I would sit and roll a ball over to him in hopes that he would understand my playful banter and push it back to me. All too often the ball would tumble across the floor and hit him smack in the nose and topple him over onto the ground. I'm sure we have all done this when we had small little children.
Now that I have kids that are old enough to catch the ball, throw the ball and make baskets, where is that Dad that wanted to play so much? He's sitting on the couch trying to make sense of the day. He doesn't want kids jumping all over him the second he walks in the door. He just wants some quiet time. He is watching TV trying to get his brain to settle down after a long stressful day at work. He is worrying about a job and money and the future.
What happened to that guy? I've been trying to remember that guy that I was 15 years ago, excited to see my kids grow up so I can play with them. It is so ironic that now that they can play, I just want them to leave me alone. (kinda)