All smiles

NOT long after Harry was born, a friend said to me: “If you think being a parent's good now, wait until Harry's two or three, when he's talking.”

At the time, I didn't think things could get any better; now I understand exactly what my friend meant.

Harry is able to articulate his emotions more clearly than ever. This morning, as I was about to leave for work, he said to me with an earnest expression on his face: “I don't want you to go to work ever Daddy. Ever, ever, ever. I want you to stay here with me.”

I felt guilty all day.

Of course the reverse is true when I arrive home. I'm welcomed in a blur of limbs and excited chattering, as Harry attempts to relate the events of the day in about two minutes.

I've also noticed that this welcome is even warmer if Harry's just had a telling off from his mum.

But perhaps the best welcome was at his swimming class a couple of weeks ago.
I finished work early and was able to sneak into the back of the viewing gallery at Waterworld to watch the second half of the lesson.

About five minutes before the end of the lesson, Harry spotted me. The smile he gave was fantastic, all the more so because it was completely natural (unlike some of the smiles he gives – particularly when he wants his own way).

He beamed at me for the remainder of the class and ran straight over to me when it finished. Despite getting soaking wet, I felt about 50 foot tall. If there's a better feeling in the world, then I've yet to discover it.