I’m taking my little boy to first grade in a new school in about ten hours. Ever since he was two it’s been hard turning him over to other people for big chunks of his life. He’s always fine of course. I’m the one with the issues.
I was thinking earlier today about six year cycles. Six years ago he was born. Tomorrow he goes into first grade. Six years from now he’s in sixth. Six years later he’s finishing high school and starting his life on his own. Hell, if he’s in a hurry he could be starting his own family six years after that. I’d be 64 by then and I’d probably still be looking at pictures of this little guy chasing chickens around a park in Hawaii with me looming behind him.
I’m not bummed at all. Just exhausted at what this dull, middle-class suburban dad thing can bring.
