Born to be a Dad

Sometimes you see some one doing something they are good at and you think, "They were born to do that". I look at my husband and think that he was born to be a dad. To be a family man. He slipped into the role so easily and I am so thankful when I see the love that he has for his son. I love how he talks to Will and tells him overly complicated things about the universe and science. Will is lucky to have a father who can't wait to teach him things and who loves him a ridiculous amount. Happy Fathers Day, Brent. I'm proud to be your wife.

On a less serious note the other night we had just finished dinner and Will was laying beside Brent on the couch. He had just poured himself a beer to have with dinner and as I got up to get something in the kitchen I handed Brent his beer to finish. While I was in the kitchen I hear Will start screaming crying and hear Brent saying "Oh no I'm so sorry, my fault buddy!". I came back into the room as Brent was carrying a beer soaked baby into the nursery to be cleaned off. He had accidentally spilled some of his beer on him and needless to say Will was not a happy camper. I say beer soaked but really it was just a small amount on his belly. That brings our total of things we've spilled/dropped on the baby up to 4: 

1 fudge pop on his sock, 1 ketchup covered french fry on his arm, a little beer on his belly, and a spoonful of smoothie on his head.

The way I see it, if you insist on being held while we are trying to eat then you have to put up with being covered in food from time to time. And I'm the one that drops the food on him, Brent has only had the beer mishap. So while being a parent is about love and cute things, it's also about being pooped on and spilling things on your baby. 

*No babies were harmed in the making of this post.