Dad mad
When I was a kid - this according to a fairly well documented family legend - whenever people would get angry with me (after I had done something I shouldn't have), I always said: "You shouldn't get angry with me, because that would make me sad." Apparently, it worked well for me when I was like 4.
I felt like that last night, when Hannes (!) got very upset with me, for some weird reason. Whether it was the fact that he hadn't seen me all day, or that I showed up home with two friends, smelling slightly of beer, but he simply refused to be near me. He freaked out and cried his cute little cheeks off, when I tried to hold him. And if that wasn't enough, he surely rubbed it in by smiling the sunniest smile at Jessica when she came to his rescue.
I really felt like a piece of shit stuck on a sole of a boot. I was simply not worthy. So I went to bed and dreamt about Hannes peeing straight onto some old lady's face, and the old lady demanding money from me, for damages.
And then I got up early in the morning when I heard moaning from Hannes's bed. I picked him up and managed to get a smile out of him. And I was so happy. I was ecstatic. I was ready to be the Superdad I wanna be. This would be the day we do some serious bonding, I thought.
Jessica said, "It's 5.15 ... five in the morning ... but I can feed him."
I laid Hannes next to Jessica and held his little hand. And fell asleep.
That weird old lady had disappeared. Superdad was back.
