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‘Big’ Daddy

Our son collapsed on the curb of the parking lot with troubled flip flops.  He wasn’t shuffling another step–not without sobbing.

As we back-tracked to where he sat, I glanced at my husband.  “You want to carry him?”

In response, my husband extended his arms to our son who crawled limply into his lap and laid his head on his daddy’s shoulder.

We’d walked some fifty feet when our son looked up. “Dad,” he asked. “How’d you get to be so big?”

And my 135 lb husband smiled and said simply, “one day at a time, son.  One day at a time.”

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2 Responses to “‘Big’ Daddy”

  1. Sarah says:

    Love this! I can hear his voice saying it to him. Trying hard not to laugh, but not even attempting to suppress the smile

  2. Jackie M says:

    I can remember a time when Troy used to ask Lowell when he was going
    to be as big as his dad…Lowell would tell him he had to be cooked a little
    longer, then he’d be big too. Loved this post. J.

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