Creating memories. That's some scary shit!

One of my favorite moments of the day is when the lil' man and I sit down and share a container of Chobani. I grab one out of the fridge and start stirring it with a spoon. As soon as he hears this familiar sound, he stops racing his matchboxes and runs to the kitchen. With delight, he exclaims the flavor of the day. Once the fruit and yogurt are stirred together, I put down the spoon and he screeches, "Put granola in it daddy." I always do.

We head over to where Bob Shetterly hangs to enjoy our snack. I dip the spoon, the lil' man leans over to determine who gets the bite. Basically, the deal is, if the bite contains bits of fruit or big chunks of granola he exclaims, "That's my bite." If the spoon only contains yogurt, "That bite is for daddy." He gets all the good bites and I'm more than happy with this arrangement. I mean, he's my best friend. I just feel lucky to have such a wonderful little bug to share my Chobani with.

The past few weeks have been mentally exhausting. I've been waking up in a fowl mood, pretty much every day. Some mornings it takes me awhile to shake this feeling. Today, I was still feeling fowl when we sat down to share our Chobani. I thought to myself, "Why do you get all the good bites? Can't daddy have a bit of fruit? A chunk of granola? What the fuck?" Fortunately, this thought process brought me out of my fowl mood. "Dude this is your boy. You give him all the good bites because you love him. Because it delights him. Because you're unselfish. AND because thirty years from now, you don't want HIM to think, "Sure he shared his Chobani with me everyday, but that asshole ate all the good bites. I'll never eat Chobani again—as long as I live."

You see, when I was a kid, a certain set of grandparents always used my birthday as an excuse to eat lobster. Lobster was my favorite treat. I'd get so excited as they piled all of the legs on a plate for me. I remember thinking, "Wow! They must love me. They're all giving me the best part of their lobsters." I'd suck and suck on those legs. I've got to imagine that they were all laughing on the inside, "Look at him. What a twit. He really thinks the legs are the best part. HA!" as they chewed on a piece of claw or tail.

Well, eventually I grew up. Lobster is still my favorite treat, but ... I no longer suck on the fucking legs. I don't even take the time to pull the legs off. In fact, those fucking legs go right into the fucking trash can. Thanks for the memories!