Last weekend after Miles and Jaclyn returned from grocery shopping, I asked him what he got at the store. His response, despite all the food they had brought home, was direct and focused on one thing alone.
“We got Daddy a Star Wars card!” he said happily, ruining some small part of my birthday surprise.
Miles, like any kid, knows the word birthday is synonymous with fun, cake, and presents, so it’s little surprise that he would be excited at the prospect of another impending celebration. As the week went on, however, he slowly decided that we might be celebrating for the wrong person.
Jaclyn brought Miles into the bedroom this morning and prompted him to “say Happy Birthday to Daddy.”
“No, MY birthday!” Miles replied. “Daddy birthday LATER!”
I wouldn’t exactly say that Miles was struggling to understand that today wasn’t his birthday…because he frankly made no effort to understand this. Instead, he went all-in on insisting that today was a day of celebration in honor of him. He even demanded his own cake.
When it came time to blow out candles, Miles led a stirring rendition of “Happy Birthday”:
“Happy birthday to daddy,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday dear Miles,
Happy birthday to Miles.”
And the actual birthday boy? I had a pretty good day, scaled back as it was due to the current state of affairs. But I saw some friends (both virtually and in-person), got some new reading material, and of course got to spend the day with the two most important people in my life.
“Have you had a good birthday?” Jaclyn asked as we ate dinner.
“I did,” I said.
“Yeah, and Miles too,” Miles assured us.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 