A Game of “Fetch”

Sometimes what I need most is a reminder that this special time with my son Tucker is going to be limited, and to make the most of every moment we have.
The other day he and I were playing like we often do with his favorite big green rubber ball (his “BAOW”) in the living room. Tuck loves it. I’ll kick it or throw it, then he’ll chase after it, giggling all the while, and bring it back for more. I’ll encourage him to try throwing it back to me, but his arm is pretty terrible right now so he usually just shoves it at me and then runs away, laughing and trying to anticipate where I’m going to send it flying. It’s a hoot, even if in some ways it’s not unlike playing “fetch” at this point.
We do a lot of running around, and as the old fat one in the game I tend to wear out a lot faster than he does. So this time I ended up eventually sitting down in the desk chair, but continued to toss the ball as he brought it to me. I’d just watch him joyfully chase after it from my comfy chair is all.
But inevitably, the siren song of the computer called to me, and I started turning away to read snippets of emails/blogs/tweets while he ran around…



I'm a full-time dad, a part-time 