i’m that guy


a friend encouraged me yesterday to continue my quest towards blogdom…so here is my valiant attempt (or lackthereof)…

 as I sit here and listen to my streaming college internet radio from some place far cooler (read – hipper) than Regina, I am realizing that I’m that guy.  you know, that guy who thinks it’s rad when he’s changing his son’s diaper and the little stink-bomb shoots a turd with the loudest fart half-way across the room (seriously, I’m so proud that he can do that – I’ve never laughed so hard)

i’m that guy, who can just sit and watch Brett with Kai and witness true, selfless love. 

i’m that guy, who’s watching Letterman, but who could care less, because his son’s on his lap, staring straight up at him with the biggest, most innocent, trusting eyes he’s ever seen.

i’m that guy, who has a newfound respect, admiration, and love for his wife as she endured things that he’ll never even come close to experiencing.

i’m that guy, who can’t figure out why the heck God would trust him to take care of and love this little dude, who he just met 3 weeks ago; but figures he’ll keep doing it until someone figures out he’s the wrong guy…

i’m that guy in that cliche sort of way (but far too real to actually be just a cliche) who realizes he would do anything for this little stink-bomb/turd-shooter and understanding just a glimpse more how God looks at him like the little turd-shooter he is.

i’m that guy, who’d talk your ear off about his perfect little son (if you let him) but who doesn’t want to be ‘that guy who talks everyone’s ears off about his son when people don’t really care’ – because he knows how annoying those people are who don’t know where to draw the line of self-indulgent blabbering.

i’m that guy who, when he was a kid, used to dream about what it would be like to be even 20 years old, able to drive a car, buy stuff…and now have woken up to realize he is almost 30, he can drive a car (even if it’s a crappy one), he can buy stuff (but not a lot because he 3 week old son is taking all the money – haha) and none of that really matters.

i’m that guy who wants to live vicariously through his son but not in a way that damages him because his dad always lived vicariously through him, making him go into figure skating and ballet because he never got the chance to (tear, tear)

i’m that guy…


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