Dad's Got Hops

My Dad claims that he's gained about 20 pounds since I was born. Considering that I've just begun to be able to focus in on him a couple of weeks ago, I can't verify that fact is true or not.

But whether it's true or not, I can verify firsthand that my dad's got some athleticism in him.

It's late night. Mommy and Daddy are on each side of me in bed. They're making faces at me and I'm trying to do what they do. It's a fun game. I'm getting better at it.

At some point, I fall asleep. Then Mommy falls asleep. And then, Daddy. He shuts the light, and the three of us are together. (By the way, this was a special treat. I'm not allowed in bed until 7 or so).

Then Mommy and Daddy hear a crinkling of paper. They turn on the light but see nothing. Daddy thinks it's just the fan blowing on some receipts. Then they shut the lights off again.

That's when I saw my Daddy use his hops.

When he felt the mouse crawling on his back, I couldn't believe how quickly and how high that fat man could jump. Seriously. I was so impressed that I forgot to be scared. And the goosebumps on his back looked like a mountain range.

We spent the night in the living room, with me on Mommy's chest as we slept on the glider while Daddy took residence on the couch.

And as I dreamed, I dreamed of Daddy being able to jump to the moon.

Just put a mouse on him. It'll be possible.