Modern amenities were lost on my dad, who didn’t quite understand why there was padding in the baby tub. “We just put you in a rusted metal bucket.” Perhaps this explains why I tried to swallow my tongue.
Other highlights included:
Watching him try to find the crank on the baby swing.
Laughing as my wife mentioned getting a pool membership in the near future. My dad and I once went rafting in the creek at the park.
Explaining the finer parts of buying kid toys at the thrift shop. Don't buy the pacifiers.
My dad asking what was in the back seat of my car. Dad, it’s a car seat.
And then there was the Baby Bjorn. While I explained how it worked, my dad commented how he loved Matt Damon in the trilogy. The Bjorn Identity. Coming to suburban theatres everywhere.
But the best part of the weekend was the evenings; after dinner, sitting in the living room and reminiscing on the past. My wife made sure to let them know just which of my childhood habits I haven't quite outgrown, (Mostly relating to my love of cereal). As always with my dad and stepmom, I laughed, I learned, and I was entertained. I was one lucky kid.
I always come away from our time together with a renewed sense of purpose, and inspired to be more like the man who raised me. I've said many times before that I hope to be anything near the father that he is to me.
Now I just need to talk my wife into getting a raft.