Yesterday when my wife picked me up I customarily dropped all of my many bags full of books into the back of the vehicle and checked to see if my son was awake or not. On many days my son will be sleeping in his car seat (that he’s quickly outgrowing). I’ll just take a breath and enjoy seeing him. I hold myself back from leaning in and giving him a kiss for fear of waking him during the journey home. He’s much happier sleeping. Some days he’s awake and I can earn a smile for a funny sound or facial expression. Either of these circumstances normally brightens my day. This was not the case earlier this week.
Earlier this week when I leaned my head into the car to check and see if my son was awake or asleep I noticed that while he was asleep there was a large scratch underneath one of his eyes. I immediately leaned into examine and then kiss his little scratch. After shutting the door and entering the car I asked my wife what had happened. Apparently our son had been attacked by a giant, vicious, baby-scratcher freely crawling on the same floor as my sweet little boy every day in day care.
Okay. Perhaps I exaggerate. Perhaps I’m overreacting. I can’t really accuse a child of probably less than one year of being intentionally vindictive by scratching my son. It was likely an accident. This doesn’t make the Dad in me happy though. I’m sure that my son didn’t even notice it at all after it happened. He’s not vain. He doesn’t constantly look in a mirror to identify and obscure blemishes. He is who he is. And he is “The Happy Baby.” I”m glad for that. Hopefully fewer instances of scrapes and bruises in the future (although those are the things that Mom’s kisses were made for).