I’ve gone from “Dad” to “Dude.”
Although sometimes he keeps it in the family and calls me “Bro.”
As in, “Dude! Bro! You don’t know how to dance the Floss?! You really don’t know anything do you?”
He’s too young to talk smack, isn’t he?
And when did it become okay for him to make fun of me?
Okay, I’ve never been able to dance. But still.
Wait, how does he know that I can’t dance and how could he possibly know that it touches a nerve? I’m lanky! These arms have nowhere to go. I don’t need to justify myself to him yet, do I? How long can I be the cool dad?
All those cliches’ about “where did the time go” and “those were the days” and “I remember when you didn’t even have arm hair”. They are real. I made up the arm hair one. Coining a phrase.
But the arm hair! When did he get arm hair!? I still have to remind him to use shampoo on his head hair. One step at a time here.
And when did he learn to get himself dressed? And how does he know what looks cool? Wait, why does he care if he looks cool? Where did my little boy go?
I think he looked cool when I dressed him in clothes that made me look cool.
“Aw, he’s wearing a little Pink Floyd T-shirt. He’s such a cool little baby.”
Actually, I’m the cool one stranger. He can’t dress himself you know. I may even be his bro one day.
Those were the days. When he wore shirts that matched my musical style.
As long as he doesn’t pick out a Sublime shirt one day. Or Coldplay… The horror.
He has his favorite TV shows now. And he knows all the characters. When did this happen?
Where did the time go? He just started recalling his home address accurately but now he can tell me all the names of the cast of the Full House remake. I tell him I watched it when it was just “Full House.”
“Dude, Bro! It’s Fuller House. You really don’t know anything do you?”
“You know these people aren’t real right!” I said.
I then blew his little mind when I showed him behind-the-scenes shots of them filming on YouTube. At least he still thinks TV shows are real. Well, did I guess?
I forced that growth spurt.
I gave him a million-dollar bill a few weeks ago that a passenger gave me in exchange for a safe flight. (I told the passenger I’d give him a safe one either way… you know, self-preservation.)
The boy didn’t buy that it was actually a million dollars. Not even for a second.
“This isn’t real.” He said hardly even looking at it.
Not even a tiny suspension of belief?
“How do you know?” I asked him.
“Well, it doesn’t have Donald Trump on it. Million-dollar bills have the president on the front.”
I didn’t know where to start.
I simply offered, “Dude, you’re just a little kid.”
He replied, “I know Bro.”