Creative Writing Collection

Being Dad

{ Mason Spam 2/2 }

Mason quietly rocked the little human in his arms, rested against his shoulder, softly singing a song his mother used to sing to him when he was younger. The babe held its little fists close to its body, sleeping head resting on the blanket on his father’s shoulder. Behind them trailed Korey with a camcorder, filming every moment of their first child. It was out of focus for a moment, and he kept zooming in and out, which slightly annoyed Mason. He hadn’t been as playful since the baby’s arrival, and acted more like mother bear towards his husband.

       Korey cooed lightly to their son, finger softly rubbing against chubby cheeks, moving to the balled fist of tiny fingers. Then the fist undid itself and gently held onto his father’s finger. His eyes widened lightly as his cheeks heated in warmth. It was stull hard for him to believe he was a father, and it was moments like these that happily reminded him.

-

       “Daddieeee!” A running, pull-ups wearing child came out from the bathroom, grin to his face. There came a reply of “Hm?” and “Yeah?” from each of his fathers, the first in the kitchen cutting some potatoes and the other on the floor, building a tower of alphabet blocks. The child giggled as the dog bounded over, playfully, though not aggressively, nipping about.

       Korey popped an elbow up on the carpet, looking at their son with a smile. “What’s up, champ?”

       Ultimately, the dog submitted and laid on the floor, child pulling at its fur and ears. “I-I use-ed… I use-ed the ‘let all myself!” he said, smiling widely once more. ( the ‘‘let’ is the child’s way of saying ‘toilet,’ which he can’t pronounce correctly, to Mason’s dismay ).

       “You used the ‘let by yourself?” Mason gasped out with the same fascination as his son. “That’s wonderful!” Korey raised a hand, saying, “Up top!” and receiving a sloppy high-five. “Look at you big man! Now I can’t call you champ anymore ‘cause now you can use the ‘let all by yourself.”

-

       “Dad… I don’t want to go to school tomorrow…”

       There was a small silence at the table, other than forks hitting their places and silent glances of one father to the other.

       “Whys that? Are you feeling ill?” Mason’s brows furrowed as he gently placed the palm, and later the back of his hand, onto their son’s forehead, a small, gleeful laughter coming from the highchair as their few-month-old daughter tossed some goldfish to the floor. The dog snapped up those that fell, leaving the floor spotless.

       “No, not like that—like this.” Korey could be heart murmuring to the little child, popping a goldfish into his mouth, the girl doing the same, though still holding a mischievous smile.

       “I just don’t want to go tomorrow, okay…” Their son shook his head and looked down to his food.

       The fathers looked to one another, then Mason gave a nod. “Alright, if you really don’t want to go…” Quietness took over for a small moment until their son left without being excused, quickly going upstairs, and the little daughter giving another shrill laugh as she pushed the goldfish down, down, down and away.