All it Takes is a Little Patience

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All it takes is a little patience When my daughters were born, I found it easy to move from “jack the lad” to the role of protector, adviser and listening father. I think I have always been and will continue to be close to them. However when my son was born I found it hard to do this, we never seemed to bond. Maybe I did not try hard enough. I tried sports, cartoons and many more boyish games in my attempt to bond with my son. In the end I gave up and accepted that I would never be as close as I was to my girls. This continued up until he was eight, much to the annoyance of his mother, who could not understand why we seemed to be poles apart. This was to change in a most unexpected way. A couple of years ago we were moving house and we took the children to view the house, just before we moved in. The house had stood empty for several months and was without out furniture and carpets, a little bit Scooby Doo you could say. The floor boards creaked as the kids explored, the voice amplified through the empty shell. With some coaxing from the Missus, I went in search of my son to decide with him which would be his bedroom. I searched high and low for him, myself feeling like a child as I discovered new parts to the house we had bought. Eventually I discovered him, in the attic sat down in front of a box, the box was open and he had emptied it; the lad was engrossed with what he had discovered. He was completely oblivious to my presence as I approach him and looked over his shoulder at his treasure. My boy had found treasure for sure, riches to be proud of. He had only gone and found the previous owners secret porn stash ! ! What was I to do ?, I had no choice, I sat beside my son and heir, leant across and selected a suitable publication. My son looked at me and I at him, and we shared a smile and a nod. Spending the next twenty minutes comparing magazines seemed to make up for the previous eight years, I felt us gel as father and son should, we could of spent hours together reading and swapping magazines, but for the womenfolk of the family discovering our grubby little hiding place. As we walked down from the attic under the scornful gaze of the female faction of the household, I knew we would be alright and there was nothing to worry about, all it needs is a little patience.


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