A Gift for Dad

Every time one of my or my husband’s special days dawns, the house starts beeping:

“Mom, what are you going to give Tetis*?”
*In our family, it’s “Tetis,” not “Dad.”
“Tetis, what are you picking out for Mom?”

With questions like that.

Maybe the kids are at the age where giving a gift feels necessary?
And not receiving one feels sad.

“So maybe at least draw something for Tetis?”—Patricija suggests today.

“Or Tetis keeps complaining he doesn’t have enough socks,”—Dominykas throws out another gift idea,—“I think he’d like some DEODORANT too.”

Meanwhile, Mykolas just stares with wide eyes, perched on the table, pulling flowers from a vase, insisting, “At least give him a little bouquet.”

Amid all the beeping questions and suggestions,

we both smile, thinking, “The biggest gifts, we’ve already given each other, and somehow we don’t value the little gifts as much anymore.”

Dominykas gets the hint.

Patricija needs it explained.

And Mykolas—
for now, he only recognizes edible, tasty, or buzzing gifts.

So understanding that there is one of the
BIG GIFTS OF LIFE, after which all others seem small—

is still very far off for him.

To gifts, after which
bouquets, cards, and deodorants
seem to shrink in comparison.

Because?

Because you feel rewarded for all the milestones of life.

And then some.

Mua,
V.