Permission Granted

The Family Man is given a gift.

The other night my two-year old son did not want to go to sleep. After my wife and I did the ritual, initial ‘tuck-in’ complete with goodnight kisses, sweet-dream wishes and the correct placement of covers and ‘blankie,’ my wife went into his room two additional times to gently coerce him to stay in his bed and go to sleep. When he began calling for a third time, it was my turn.

I walked into his room. “You’re not Mommy,” he said accusingly.

“You’re right,” I said, “I’m not.”

“Sometimes I let you tuck me in, and sometimes not,” he said.

“How about tonight?” I asked.

He paused. I swear he actually furrowed his brow as he contemplated his decision.

“Yes. Tonight you can,” he said at last.

So I made the most of it. Kisses, tickles, covers positioned just so. One final kiss on the forehead, and I said, “Good night, Tommy. And thank you.”

He closed is eyes, and with the slightest hint of a smile he said, “You’re welcome.”

It’s great to be The Family Man.