I spent last Saturday afternoon hanging out with my son—who is 9 years old going on 16—when he asked me who my favorite football player was. I told him that I really didn’t have a favorite. Then he asked me who was really good.
“Well,” I said, “Peyton Manning is going to the Hall of Fame when he’s done.”
“Yeah, I think he had 33 touchdown passes last year,” he shot back.
“Wow, good info.”
He went on, “Daniel (his little buddy at school) wrote a paper about his hero. He chose Peyton Manning.”
“Pretty cool,” I said. “Who’d you write your paper on?”
Without missing a beat or even looking at me, he said, “You.”
I could not have been happier. It’s amazing how many things you can think about in a matter of seconds. I suddenly had visions of him accepting an Oscar and thanking the biggest influence in his life: me. Then it was him on Oprah after writing his fourth New York Times bestseller, thanking me for cutting his weekly Xbox time when he was 8. And then there was the unveiling of his first son: Craig.
It was vindication against everything that I have going against me: video games, his friends, influences at school, TV. I gotta admit, I puffed my chest out a bit.
“Wow, thanks,” I said, “that’s pretty cool.”
Again, without even looking at me he said, “Yeah, but I should have wrote it about Mom.”
I never had a chance to tell my dad he was my hero, and I hope that my son and daughter will find it appropriate some day to tell me I’m their hero (and their mom too) 🙂
I never had a chance to tell my dad that everything I’d achieved in my professional life was directly the result of his influence. Separated by some 3,000 miles, we communicated regularly—better on paper than on the phone, as it happened. I sent him typewritten letters; he responded with his lousy handwriting, which I learned to decipher. It took years for me to realize that what I got from him was essentially first-draft copy. But all of it was spelled and punctuated correctly; his sentences were parsed beautifully, and each paragraph hung nobly on the one that preceded it. I… Read more »
I remember when my oldest son said the same thing to. Really blew me away.
First of all, did you tell your son about Peyton Manning’s 10 interceptions in the last three games? Or how about how he’s blaming injuries for the team’s woes even though he’s supposed to be an MVP who makes everyone else around him better? Sorry, the searing hatred I have for Peyton Manning knows no limit. Second, the moment you described where he told you you were his hero…that’s the one I desperately want someday. It’s how I feel about my dad and how I want my son to feel about me. Lastly, the last part was hysterical. Moms get… Read more »