A Love Worth Screaming For…

A father, a son.

Only one, yet permanently a fixture in his heart. Baby looks at Dad with the fun fear of a tickle. Wanting to be chased by him and only him because Dad knows the scream of excitement versus the one of terror or danger.

He delights in the rough and tumble. Dad takes hits to the face with a builder block, a brusk brush on the head with a wooden comb. Dad slices the Velcro lemon in half for the hundredth time. Shows baby how to bring Mom felt flowers.

A silk scarf tossed high in the air expands to cover his face for peekaboo and also bunches tight in his big hand to disappear; magic. 

Inside jokes between the two from bedtime stories. Only Dad can put you to bed because Mommy would never let you weep. And he leaves you there because he believes you will soothe and you know he’ll be there the next morning.

Dad brings you smoothies, eggs, yogurt, and English muffins with way too much cream cheese. He wants you to have all of it at least to try and get you to nibble, but you remind him your taste is your own. When you start trying to escape your tower at the counter, Dad throws on some tunes. Both Queen and Pink Pony Club to give you culture, expertise and fun. Dad dances with you, your giggles, infectious and your squeals only get LOUDER as dad‘s hips and arms grow WILD.

“I love you,” Dad whispers in close to your face.

“I love you!” you shout back. With your look, and stomp of your little foot, you’ve now requested a competition.

“I LOVE YOU!” you scream.

And Dad bellows back, “I love YOUUU!”

This back-and-forth fills the kitchen; the whole house booming so much Mom and Mom’s friend can’t help but join in. 

THIS

is a love worth screaming for.

To chase,

to play with,

to dance for in celebration,

to feed,

and to dream of…

It’s worth a hoarse voice tomorrow and cream cheese all over your shirt because you were swept up in the pure innocence of the love between a father and his baby.