Gideon was lying behind me on the floor obediently working on a Father’s Day card for his Granddaddy. I turned in my chair and watched him. His tongue was stuck firmly into his cheek as he concentrated on moving the marker across the sheet of construction paper. I tilted my head to make out what he was drawing. There were buildings with stickmen in funny hats running between them.
“Huh,” I said. “You’re making a card for your grandad, right?”
He glanced up and smiled, “Yep.”
“So… Um. What are you drawing?”
“Well,” he said. “You know how Grandad fought in World War 2, right?”
I shook my head and said, “Nope.” But he was too focused on his drawing to hear me.
“So, I’m drawing a picture of soldiers fighting in World War 2 against some big robot tanks.”
I shook my head even faster. “Okay, double nope.”
He didn’t notice. His fingers were moving to put a rocket launcher on the arm of the killer robot that was blowing up the men in the street, one of which I assume was supposed to be his Granddad.
I pat him on the shoulder. “Well, just make sure you write Happy Father’s Day on the top, alright buddy?”
“Sure Dad,” he winked at me strangely as I stood to walk away.
