People that know me are aware that I am an incorrigible nerd. I am fascinated by things that bore many to tears. I have encyclopedic knowledge of topics that have questionable value in daily life. I have regaled many (family, friends, and co-workers) with my recitation of said knowledge, tickling them with vague anecdotes of questionable relevance.
Pro-tip: If you must explain a quip, it likely missed its mark.
I bore. Really. I know it (and I am working diligently to stop), but my kids do not seem to mind.
Our eldest daughter asks for a story before bedtime. The topics range from fact to fiction. Each evening she is rapt, or so I imagine, hanging on each dangling participle. It is a meditation for me, a moment to reflect and recount from rich memory. Each evening meets its same end: she is grateful for the story, hungry for more. I am thankful that she has not yet realized that her mother and I are not the center of the universe. I am thankful that she still hugs and kisses me good-night, telling me that I am, ". . . the best Dad ever."
Our middle child does not ask for a story or song at bedtime. She wants none of it. She will entertain your desire to recite or sing, but she is far happier to chat you up instead. She tells stories at a breakneck pace, with intrigue and drama and no boundaries. It is stream of consciousness and I treasure it. On the evenings where her mother does not dispatch her to much needed rest, we share the stories and a song, and a meditation:
Me: You know how much I love you?
Me: To the moon and back again.
Me: Sweet dreams, sleep tight.
Julia: Don't let the bed bugs bite.
Me: Don't play with your nose goblins, they will devour yours fingers while you sleep!
Me: I love you.
Julia: And I.
Our youngest is closing rapidly on three months old. She is bubbly, boisterous, and genial. She says little to me at bedtime, save for the occasional jubilant yawp. I try to entertain her, but mother's milk and slumber best me every time. I would not have it any other way.
While few, these are reasons why my kids are better than 'N'. They are the reason I rise, the reason I work, the reason I cannot wait to come home. They have enriched my life beyond measure, just as my wife has. I pray that I bring them the joy and love they bring to me.