Serious Shit

I love my kids.

They don't exist, but yet in my mind, I can picture them.

I can picture holding a baby in my arms, cradling them in my embrace, one arm on their buttock, the other forearm supporting their back.

Looking at them all wrapped up in a little bundle with their eyes not even open and their mouths just breathing in lightly. Their little arms just moving about in a soft gentle toylike way.

I see them crawling around in their diapers and shirt.

One hand in front of the other, slowly moving towards me and touching my face in their childlike innocence.

Seeing them gurgle and laugh and spout gibberish-ish nonsense.

And if they accidentally bump into a wall, or draw all over it, I'll make sure that they're ok and laugh about it later.

Seeing them taking their baby steps. Maybe not their first, but when they're just walking about slowly.

Magical moment I'm hoping will happen will be when they look at me and start waddling over to me and hugging my leg. 

And if they fall, I'll be there to pick them up and let them know its going to be alright.

And when they're older, I'll take them to school and pick them up and ask them about their day and what they learned and who's in their class and who did what.

And we'll stop by for some grocery shopping and they'll complain and I'll promise that it won't take too long and make sure they come down with me.

I'll teach them how to buy fruits and vegetables. How to recognize which food is good and which isn't.

Then as they grow older, they won't need me as much.

But I will promise them that I will be there for them if they ever need me and that they can be honest with me because I will try to understand what they're going through and do my best to help them get through their problems.

And then I'll be there for them when they make a decision to commit to another person for the rest of their life (divorces not withstanding) and offer them my congratulations and wish them all the happiness in the world as they have brought me so much joy even before they were born.

And before I take my sorry ass to the great beyond, I'll see my grandkids, walking and looking around the room for something to walk towards. And they'll turn to me, look into my eyes and start walking towards me until they hug my leg.

The End.