By the time I'd reached the age Fuss is now dad had abandoned us to chase corporate success and marry stewardesses & mom had blundered through at least one 'could not have been worse unless she'd taken us hitchhiking with Ted Bundy' situation, from which she fled home to live with her parents, in hindsight a decision akin to fleeing Bluebeard by hiding in his closet (I went to Kindergarten there for several months, which I didn't remember at all until starting therapy in my 30's. A splendid academic beginning!)
I was reading books to Fuss tonight when the big storm finally rolled in, a furious wind bucketing rain against the windows and manhandling the trees. As I finished the first book Fuss bundled Giant Coodgie to one side and, wrapped in several blankies, snuggled up against me.
"Dada, can I lay up against you? It makes me feel safe."
Having lived my life, I don't understand why he feels the way he does about me.
But it's satisfying to know that, having lived his life, he does.