Jeffrey C. Long

My son Zech is notorious in our family for things needing to be done a certain way and always that way. Trust me, he does get in trouble when he throws a tantrum about these things, but still he has a hard time handling adversity when he doesn’t get to do the things that he likes to.

An example of this is that a few weeks ago he asked to take a shower with me. So we did. Now I can’t shower alone. Anytime I shower, he has to be there. It took awhile for me to adjust to needing to share the steady stream of hot water with his little body. He’s kind of cute. When I’m hogging the hot water while I rinse, if I take too long he sidles up to me and says in his broken 3 year old english “daddy scoot!”

Another example is when I make my morning latte. There are rituals involved. First is getting the coffee beans out of the freezer. Then grinding them. Followed by scooping them into the holder. Microwaving the milk (my steaming wand doesn’t work and is really noisy anyway). Finally, pushing the button to start brewing the espresso. Of these, he has to be involved in getting the beans out of the freezer, shaking the grinder when the beans get stuck, patting the ground beans into the holder, and finally pushing the button. If he doesn’t get to do any of these, he goes into fits.

This really bugs me. And today it hit me why. I want to do these things. Making my espresso is my ritual. He has forced me to share this ritual. In many ways, he is just like his father. I have many different rituals in my day that if they get disturbed cause me to sweat (not really, but you get the idea). So, I guess there could be worse things then sharing them with my son. And we all know how quickly these years pass by, so I am going to try and make use of it as a time to bond with him.