At some point yesterday, someone (not sure who, certainly wasn’t me) suggested to Miles that there would be “fireworks at midnight.” I discovered this when I interrupted one of Miles’s Blaze and the Monster Machines binge-watches around 9:45 to let him know he would need to go to bed in a few minutes.
“I’m staying up for the fireworks,” he replied.
“Oh,” I replied. Glancing down the hall and seeing that Jaclyn had already sealed herself in the bedroom, I shrugged. Looked like it would just be the two of us ringing in the new year anyway.
I went to the next room to read for a little bit, and it wasn’t until around 11 when the calmness was interrupted not by Miles, but by a suddenly very much awake Jaclyn, who was now the one interrupting Miles’s television with orders to go to bed. I quickly intervened, letting her know that Miles and I were standing together to usher in the new year and that she could either join us or not. And so all three of us enjoyed the last hour of 2022 together in the movie room, chatting, watching TV, and playing some Yahtzee Jr.
Regarding the latter, as we selected colors before the game started, Miles was a bit indecisive. Quickly selecting black, he soon changed his mind, saying, “No, I don’t want to be black. Black is not my mode.”
“…your what?” I chuckled, wondering where on earth he had picked that phrase up.
Miles’s use of modern slang wasn’t the only thing that made Jaclyn and I feel old as the clock ticked towards midnight, as we were left to ponder who many of the people on the New Year’s countdown shows were (like, I know who Duran Duran are, but the rest?).
Finally, the time was at hand. Jaclyn and I started counting down along with the television and we tried to get Miles to do the same, but in true Miles fashion all he wanted to do was ask about a dozen questions about the Times Square ball (how big it is, how it lights up like that, etc.).
In the final few minutes before we all went to bed, I asked, “Miles, what’s your New Year’s Resolution?”
“Um, eat cupcakes,” he replied. Suitable priorities for a four-year-old.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 