Tonight we played Candy Land before bed.
You wanted to go first, and I let you. You were excited to play, and I thought to myself how much I wished I could hold on to these years when you're little. These years when you get excited because you get to move two orange spaces instead of just one space in Candy Land.
You won our first game fair and square. When, I told you we could play again, and when I set up the pieces at the start line, you moved mine in front of yours. Then you said, "You can go first this time, Dad." I remember thinking that the thousands of dollars I've already spent in pre-k tuition was paying off: you were learning to take turns.
We played our second game, and you won again. You got lucky and drew the cupcake card that took you all the way to the top of the board. You were excited to win two times in a row.
Our second game was pretty short, and we decided to play a third time. We played for a while, and it didn't take long before you were way ahead of me on the board. I wasn't even trying to let you win.... you did it all yourself. But this time, as you were only spaces away from the finish line, you drew the next card that would let you win the game. You looked at the card, and looked at me. Then you put it down and said, " Oh, it was your turn, you go."
I told you that you were right and that it was your turn to play, and you said, "Well, I don't want to play because now I will win." Puzzled, I said, " Don't you want to win? You're supposed to want to win."
Then you smiled while showing off your freshly made fruit-punch mustache left over from dinner. You said, " I won the last two times, dad. I want you to win this time." And you moved my piece ahead of yours to the finish line. And said, "There you go. You win."
And I thought to myself, "What a great dad you'll be someday."
My little boy, showing empathy for his dad letting him win at Candy Land. And that's another reason why you're my son, and my hero. I love you.
-Dad
