The Silence of the Dadhood

The hats and horns are put away for another year. My birthday has passed. I’ve noticed a new marker for the advancing years. It is come to my attention how little of my own birthday trappings I am allowed to pay for myself. Not bad, in fact rather gratifying.

Right now, for a short while, I have the house to myself. Feels like rehearsals for retirement. Maybe it’s only a sampling of the silence of an empty nest. Of course, silence is not silent. It’s the small noises left when the big noises are gone. Ironist that I am, I can appreciate such musings without dwelling on them overmuch.

My Dadhood has caused me to lose certain skills besides relishing a quiet house. Skills like making a meal for one. My lunchtime creation tastes like something you would eat to avoid torture. All that is missing (thank God) is liver, okra or lima beans.

Tomorrow the house will be full again. The sweet sounds of girls giggling, cats meowing for attention, CD player fighting against television for the background noise championship will resound throughout our apartment and carry out into the street. Once again, I will be surrounded by the maniacal glory of family noise.

I will savor it now as I have forgotten to before. Before I listened to the lessons of silence.