t h e . r i d i c u l o u s . p a n d a

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Silas. Before you were born, I had no idea what kind of father I would be. I had high hopes that I would kick ass, but you never really know. I knew Katie was going to be an amazing mother. She's honest, responsible, organized and super fun. But as for me, it remained to be seen.
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You have been here for seventeen months. You can walk. You can talk. You prefer fish and buses and brooms and balloons. You really like grapes. You're just so much fun. I only get to spend about two hours with you on weekdays, but it's two hours of squealing, running, throwing, roaring, laughing and bubbles.
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I get to put you to bed every night. I get to pick you up in the ridiculous morning and calm you back to sleep. I get to take you to the park, to the diner. I look for you when I walk in the door because I know how happy you're going to be to see me. It makes my head implode.
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I am stunned by your good looks. I am envious of your openness with everyone. It takes you approximately three seconds to get comfortable with new people. It sometimes takes me three months. I love your cleverness, your memory, your fascination with precise tasks. I just really love to hang out with you.
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I think I only get to be a father as you define it, and I totally kick ass. Thanks SIlas Lee, you are excellent. papa
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