In the last five minutes of our travel to Jesse and Bekah's place in Tokyo, after the long hours of waiting, plane riding, seat jumping, toddler tantruming, Amaya vomited all over her front, my front, our bag front, the seat front, the floor in front of us, and the aisle-way. I've never missed Jake so much in my life.
Although several people jumped up to give us tissues of different sizes, and luckily, a plastic grocery bag, I was the one cleaning the vomit and holding the vomit-stained child, and trying to keep calm. Usually when Amaya does this, I put Jake in charge of vomit clean up, and I deal with her, which is always less work.
One thing about being a father is that I expect him to deal with things I find very unpleasant. He's very good at that. I don't really feel bad about it, unless I'm vocalizing it like this, and I realize that other people may consider me selfish. On the good side, Jake will seem unselfish, which is what Father's day is all about, right?
Jake is lucky that he can take the father role very seriously, considering that he watches Amaya more than I do. He's conscious of how she's developing and what he can do to help her become a better person. I am grateful that he is consistent in his parenting because I am not. How much I pay attention to what rule she's breaking is directly correlated to how tired I am. Which is often.
Jake is also fun. I, am not.
He makes Amaya sized jokes, runs Amaya sized outings, and does Amaya sized talk. My itinerary is usually follow Amaya in the yard, watch shows, or read books. I rarely vary from that. I'm trying to emulate Jake more while I'm in Japan. Yesterday I took her for a walk and climbed over rocks, and felt a little better about myself.
When I married Jake, I had no idea that I was marrying such a good father. Lucky, aren't I?