On Daddies and Abbas

A while ago, after collecting the boys from school,

Asher demanded, "Go see Daddy!"

(Now, we have never been "Mommy" and "Daddy" to the boys -

our names are "Ima" and "Abba" around here.)

So, I bent down and asked him,

"Asher, what is your Daddy's name?"

With earnest, he looked into my eyes and replied, "David."

Surprised by that common parental feeling of combined shock, amusement, and pride,

I attempted to hold in my laughter and tried again.

"Asher, what do we call the daddy in our family?"

I saw a small spark of recognition flicker across his eyes. Smiling proudly, Asher exclaimed, "David KOPANS!"

~~~~~

Fast forward to 3:00 this morning.

A small boy cried out for rescue

from the throes of a nightmare,

"DADDY!!!"

He was retrieved from the dark scariness

and deposited in the big bed.

As he snuggled next to me,

I whispered,

"Asher, what's your daddy's name?"

He snuggled back and sleepily replied,

"Abba."

Probably that's why I let him sleep like this for the rest of the night,

leaving me about 6 inches of mattress and a horrible backache.

It's a good thing he's worth it.