My Man Ricky D

Tonight I had one of those Ricky D moments....

I worked a little late tonight to prepare for my two-week audit trip to Tampa.

Yeah, yeah, Spartacus... Like I'm going to believe that one...

I'll just have to bring my camera and post photographic evidence, won't I?

I digress...

When I walked through the door tonight, this little man was just emerging from his shower in his tighty-whiteys, proud as a fucking peacock to show me the huge raspberry on his shoulder.

Ricky D: Check this out Dad (pointing to his shoulder)! I got it playing football at the youth center.

Me: Really. That looks like it hurts. What happened?

Ricky: I made this amazing catch as I was falling to the ground!

Me: Really? That's awesome.

Ricky: Thanks Dad! You know what the best part is though?

Me: No. What?

Ricky: I didn't cry about it at all. I got up and kept playing.

(Please avert your eyes if you're disinclined to reading mushy parent talk.)

After we talked about his battle scars (he had two more on his knees), he put up his boney arms to show me his muscles. Then he pointed to his abdomen and asked me if I could see the six-pack.

C'mon. Admit it. You took a look at his picture and got a chuckle. It's okay. I did, too. But he was being serious. He was really trying hard to prove to me he's a man, and not a little kid.

I know he's my son and I am biased by my unconditional love for him, but I can't help but root for him. If you met him in person, you would know why. He's always been one of the smallest kids in his class and he is very self-conscious about his small stature. He's easily intimidated and gets bullied sometimes. He has ADHD, so thoughts race in his mind alot faster than his ability to communicate them coherently.

But he has heart. He has that hunger; that indefatigable drive to be good at something.

He's still making movies.



And he plays piano.




And now I know that he's willing to run through his walls and endure the sting of nasty welts to be true to himself and be the man he wants to be.