Hosted by Cecily and Mama Geek
Little Billy IS ... his daddy's boy.
When he was small, he followed after me everywhere, just like his sisters. He clung to my leg when he was confronted by strangers. He was on my lap and in my arms for the beginning days of his life and seldom wanted to leave my side.
But ...
Somewhere along the way, he found himself a pair of child-sized scissors and ... he cut those apron strings and off he went to find his daddy. And, the only time he really looks for me now, is to help with homework or ... late in the evening when he wanders into my bedroom, crawls up on my bed and begs me to rub his back. I am always happy to oblige.
Following, for so many years, in his father's footsteps, has led Little Billy to many places he would not have experienced if he had stayed home, close by my side.
It has offered him a life filled with exciting adventures and manly errands. Of fast cars and dirty finger nails. Of time spent under the hoods of cars, in the aisle ways of Ace Hardware and Auto Zone, searching for parts and tools. Of time at the end of a pier with fishing lines strung into murky waters. Of peering through slits of deer blinds in the coldest part of the morning. Of sharing the front seat of a truck with his dad and engaging in manly conversations.
Little Billy's daddy grew up in rural Texas. He was a country boy. He learned to hunt and fish and aim a sling shot at glass bottles lined up on the railroad tracks. He learned to work on cars and trucks and did not worry that he smelt of grease and oil. He was not coddled by his parents and was allowed a childhood that encouraged roaming and wandering and adventure.
Little Billy's daddy does not coddle his son. He allows the boy to climb trees and is content to stand below the branches and smile up in amazement and pride. He hands his boy the largest rock he can find and encourages his son to toss the rock into rivers and streams and sometimes at the broad side of a barn. He stands over the boy's shoulder and steadies a man-sized rifle.
I often worry about Little Billy. "Keep him away from the alligators," I will insist, when I hear there are Texas gators in a nearby tank. "Make sure he watches for snakes - I am not going to be happy if you don't bring him home alive!" My fears and worries are never ending. "Make sure you quiz him on his spelling words," I will scream as they climb into the truck. "He's got a spelling test tomorrow." I think they laugh at me as they drive away.
Not too long ago, the phone rang in the early morning - I was still in bed. It was Little Billy calling from school.
"Hi, Mom," his voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"Hi, Sweetie. What's up? What's the matter?"
"Nothing's wrong," he says, "Guess what I got on my math test?" He sounded very calm.
I sat up in my bed, "What? What did you get?" I hoped for good news.
"I got a 100," he said proudly.
I went on and on about how proud I was and then asked where he was calling from. He informed me that he stopped by the office to make the call, on the way to his next class.
"And ..." he went on quietly, "Dad wrecked the Corvette this morning," he offered nonchalantly. "But, you didn't hear it from me. I gotta go, Mom - see you after school."
On this morning, his dad had driven him to school early to complete a math test he had failed to finish the prior afternoon. On his way out of the driveway, he ran the rear end of the Corvette into the corner of a trailer - the damage was minimal.
I smiled a big smile when I hung up the phone that morning. While I was a bit worried about my husband's Corvette, the worry was replaced quickly with pride and smiles. Proud of a boy that took time out of his morning to call his mom. Proud of a boy that felt pride of the work he had accomplished. Proud of a boy that even though he would prefer spending his time in the woods or in the bed of a pickup truck on a back country road, he finds time to be aware that his future is dependent possibly on the worth of an A on a math test. A lesson his mother had been trying desperately to teach him. A lesson she was not certain he was grasping or embracing.
I also found it interesting that he switched sides - if for only a moment - to rat out his dad about the Corvette.
I think there might still be a bit of a bond between Little Billy and his mom. I might not know how to load a shot gun or clean a catfish, or be comfortable when I see my son on the top of the roof or slinging razor blades at a bull's eye painted on a sheet of plywood, but ... I do believe he might just be looking to me to help guide his little butt through school. He might just believe he will do good to achieve scholastic honors along with ... antlers he can mount on his wall.
HAPPY 12th BIRTHDAY, LITTLE BILLY!
May your life always be filled with adventure.
May you always realize how lucky you were to have such a wonderful father.
May you never forget that the part of my heart that is yours ... is overflowing with love and pride for my precious son.
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