If all parents were completely honest I think almost every one of them would admit to wishing they’d see a little of themselves in their children. When we found out I was carrying a boy, I still held out hope that even though we wouldn’t be playing with dolls or playing “beauty shop”, perhaps my son and I would share some interests. When he arrived looking like the spitting image of his dad, I had to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t even look like me.
It has almost taken us 4 years, but Praise Jesus, E.B. and I have found common ground. Deep down I knew he had to get something from me, and I found out those little somethings were my secret favorite things from my childhood. Bubble wrap and Pac-Man.
While helping my mom take down her Christmas decorations, E.B. discovered that bubble wrap made this fantastic popping sound. And it’s so addicting to pop, too. He popped every piece of bubble wrap my mom had and was counting on to protect her holiday treasures until the next year. He even demanded more when that all ran out. Good thing his mom works where there is a daily supply in book shipments we receive at the store. When I was growing up, my mother would also bring this fantastic plastic treasure home to me from where she worked. I could literally entertain myself for hours with that stuff…or until it ran out, whichever came first. I called it “poppy paper”. And as I watched E.B. jump and stomp his heart out on that bubble wrap, I couldn’t help but beam with pride. Over my child. And bubble wrap.
Then E.B. also discovered his dad’s old Gameboy Color, complete with Pac-Man. I’ll just inform you all right now that nobody, and I do mean nobody, could beat me at Pac-Man back in the day. And you will never be able to convince me that there is any better video game in the world. Ditto for the Atari gaming system. As E.B. struggled to figure out Pac-Man on the tiny little screen, it dawned on me that I had bought Cracked Daddy this plug and play game thingy for Christmas several years back. I just knew if we could find it that it would be the perfect thing. Cracked Daddy spent all of Saturday afternoon digging through our storage room and he finally found it and we have suffered from Pac-Man Fever ever since. And as I watched E.B. say, “Aww, man!!” everytime the little ghost would catch his Pac-Man, I couldn’t help but beam with pride. Over my child. And Pac-Man.
When you are grasping for any similarity, you’ll take what you can get. Even if it’s the dorky stuff.
P.S….I couldn’t end this without sharing this and this. Oh, go ahead! You know you want to!
