Storm Clouds and Blue, and Memories of You

Well, I'm officially missing the boy.

He's been gone with Mommy for one week now.  They're visiting with Nana up in South Carolina.

I'm here in the rain, eating chocolate and shaking my fist at the DirecTV (really?  The technology doesn't work IN THE RAIN?).

As I catch snippets of Gordon Ramsey's new show, F Word, and ponder my fate, I can't help but think about how damn amazing it is to be a father.  I'm not saying there aren't maddening days.  That there aren't times I feel like a damn failure as a dad, when I drop an F Word myself in the midst of a typical morning of South Florida traffic.

And NJ's aspie side comes out: "Dad, that's not "I Care" language."

It's hilarious.  He recognizes swear words.  But he's never been tempted to use them.

Which is weird, because he's really devilish - and loves to provoke.

For example, he sometimes calls me Mom.   And then he stands there with a goofy grin on his face, waiting for me to correct him.

He has also started doing this silly laughing thing, where he pretends to be nervous and kind of chuckles as he's "explaining" the situation.  "Nate, what are you doing in here?!"

"Well (ha ha ha)... I'm not really (hahaha) doing anything!"

Kid is a ham.

The Kid Who Made the Summer Camp Picture "Special"

In fact, the other day I picked him up from his last day of regular summer camp.

His face was red.  He was still wearing his "crazy shorts" because it was crazy shorts day.  He hopped in the car, and his counselor - Ariana - handed me a packet with some odds and ends.

Included among them: his official summer camp picture.

There they were, 15 beautiful kids - the Pine Cone 2 Group.

Smiles all around, standing there in their green shorts and white tee-shirts.  Boys and girls, all about NJ's age.

And right in the middle of this picture of summer serenity is one blond-haired boy, fingers firmly inserted at the corners of his mouth, tongue sticking out, silly face in full effect.  Ah, NJ.  You never had a chance.  

Little does he know, his father was a major jokester as a kid too.  

I was always quick with an absurd comment... A silly voice... An overly dramatic song...

I miss my little chip off the old block tonight.

Not even bits of Gordon Ramsey beaming through storm clouds can alleviate my blue.

But come Saturday morning, he'll be here again.  And we'll proceed making more memories.

At least half of them I expect - and hope - will be completely absurd.