I'm not a big fan of kids, children, rug rats, etc. There are a few exceptions, though.
When I hang out with Francis & his family, his sons are generally playful, smart and curious. The boys are naturally mischievous, but well behaved. Fran & Mickey actually talk to them, and they LEARN. In short, good parents, good kids.
Last weekend, I had arrived at Chris' house in a miserable, zombified state. He said I looked really pissed off when I walked through his door. I chugged 32 ounces of sugary, caffeinated goodness, sat down on the floor of Isaiah's room with his mother Yanellie & grandmother, and just relaxed.
I hadn't seen Isaiah since he was but a blob in his crib. Now, he's over a year old, walking around, and has a personality. He's also fascinated by the magnetic clip of my cell phone case. He already likes wrestling, thanks to his dad. He's a pretty bright boy, very curious about the world around him, and very playful. Like I've said before, good parents, good kids.
There was a really sweet moment when Carlos & Tara arrived. Tara sat down a couple feet from me. Isaiah walked right up to her, gave her a hug, and kissed her on the cheek.
Chris said, "Look out, Carlos, you have some competition!"
As I was sitting there playing, I became a bit more relaxed. Maybe it was the insomnia, maybe it was the caffeine coursing through my veins, but something that resembled paternal instincts kicked in.
Later on, when we all came out to the living room, I'd pick him up to sit on the couch. Chris said, "I never thought I'd see the day..."
I was pretty surprised, too.
I've realized I DO want to have kids; I DO want to be a father.
It's just going to be at least 8 years before I even consider procreating. The whole tired screaming and dirty diapers stuff, I'm not ready for.
So, yeah, my charred, scabbed black heart isn't as charred, scabbed and black as we all thought it was.
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