The Grand Promise of Little Things

30 Minus 2 Days of Writing (2013)
Day 19: “Little Things”

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“I’m really no good at this.” I said, taking a step backward. I pushed my palms out and away from my chest as if I were being held at gunpoint.

Still she persisted. Crystal inched closer with her infant son held forward, beckoning me to grab a hold of him, as if she were offering a ball to a young child.

“I just know that once I have him in my arms, he’s going to squirm, and I’m going to drop him. I’ll go down in history alongside all of humanity’s worst monsters: Hitler, Charles Manson, Pol Pot, and those assholes from Nickelback. I can’t handle that kind of pressure.”

Still she persisted, inching ever closer with the hint of a sly smile crossing her lips. The next thing I knew, there was a baby in my arms. I clutched him as firmly as I could allow myself without being rough, gripping him nervously yet gingerly, like I was holding an awkward, squirmy football. Then I looked down at him, and he looked up at me, and I saw so much of his mother’s face and his father’s eyes mingled within the features of this tiny, beautiful little person. There in my hands, I held the summation of a lifetime’s worth of hopes and dreams formed by the love between my two dear friends, Crystal and Gabe. It seemed so strange to think that just a few short months before, this extraordinary little life hadn’t even yet been formed. There beneath my eyes was the face of infinite promise, of genuine love, and of hopeful, earnest progeny. I looked down at that tiny face, and for the briefest of instances, I finally understood what it meant to be a whole person.

I handed baby Iggy back to Crystal with a smile and a shrug. “Beautiful child, but kids just aren’t for me.”

“You’d better learn to love kids, asshole.” growled my fiancée, Diana, who had been standing nearby. “I better not have been bleeding and cramping my entire adult life for nothing.” She’s a real classy broad.

“Maybe in time, Diana.” I said with a sigh.

Maybe sooner than I once ever thought.

30 Minus 2 Days of Writing (2013)
A painful exercise in forced inspiration brought to you by
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