I own a certain shirt that’s very bright. It’s a cotton mock turtleneck with horizontal stripes of orange, yellow, hot pink and green. It’s a “shirt and a half” as one colleague once said. The shirt was buried somewhere at the bottom of one of my drawers until my wife’s cleaning spree recently unearthed it. I wore it the other day for the first time in years.
When my son, Zachary, saw me, the first thing he said was, “I like your shirt, Dad.”
“Thanks, Zach,” I replied, pleased to hear his compliment.
My daughter chimed in with, “That’s a cute shirt, Dad.”
“I love your shirt, Dad,” my son strengthened his conviction.
“That’s a cute shirt, Dad,” Sarah said again.
“Thanks, guys,” I said to them both.
Thinking the conversation over my shirt over, I began to move away to make breakfast, part of our morning ritual. But before I could move, my daughter continued.
“Are you wearing that to work?” She asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Your friends are going to laugh,” she said with a smirk on her face.
Now, this may be one of those “you had to be there” moments, but I can’t tell you how funny I thought this was, and still think it is. She cracks me up. They both do.
Bits of clever conversation and sound bites like these are normal these days. Zach and Sarah, I cannot begin to tell you just how much you lighten my spirit, fill my heart with joy and make me want to Tango through each day. You provide a soft but powerful glowing light that helps me see. I mean really see. I love you both and all the wonderful, silly, clever, amazing things you say and do.