Parker and I had another one of those father-son chats that was cute enough to share.
We took Parker to a birthday party yesterday, and upon arrival all the parents and kids got name tags. After we got home last night, we settled in to watch Dragon Tales before getting ready for bedtime, and I noticed I was still wearing my name tag. Parker was sitting on my lap. The conversation when something like this:
ME: (Noticing my name tag still on my shirt) Oh, I guess I can take this off now.
PARKER: (Pointing at the name tag I’d just removed.) Is that your last name?
ME: No, that’s my first name.
PAKER: No it’s not.
ME: Oh really?
PARKER: Because I don’t see a “D” in there.
Not that I’m likely to forget, it’s good to be reminded that — whatever my friends, family, or colleagues call me — I am and will always and forever be known as “Parker’s Dad.” (And sometimes that title completely replaces my given name.)
For that, he got a big smile, a hug, and a kiss from Daddy.