The “just wait 'til” proclamations from friends and relatives ended years ago. Maybe those folks all just tired of the inaccurate predictions. Or maybe they ended because the friends and relatives now know better. But they mostly all appropriately ended.

All those times I heard the “just wait 'tils,” I smiled and yucked it up with the speaker and acknowledged the possibilities. After all, I was a novice at all of this. The “just wait 'tils” came from more seasoned folks usually.

You see, some years ago, I began telling people close to me and some not so close to me about some important new stuff in my life. They each and all shared in my excitement. And they each and all did so with a caveat of sorts. They understood how great things were for me, but they mostly all warned that I just wait 'til this time or that for the newness and the greatness to wear down. Once that happened, it seemed to them, reality would set in and the shine of wonder would fade.

Of course, being the novice that I was, I kind of believed them. So I waited. I waited for the faded shine. I waited two years, the length of time most of those seasoned folks suggested at first. Then I waited eight or nine more, another sort of projected milestone for the dull and faded reality to set in as independence and rebellion would certainly reign over wonder. I guess I was just meant to wait things out. Another five year warning I waited out. And again the following five or six years. I waited. And I waited.

And still I waited.

“Just wait 'til he turns two,” the friends and relatives use to say. “He won't be so cute anymore.”

“Just wait 'til he goes to school,” they continued years later.

“Just wait 'til puberty,” was another one.

“He's a pretty good kid, but just wait 'til he leaves home,” was an even later warning.

Soon after that last warning, the “just wait 'tils” ended for good. I think the friends and relatives all tired of failing.

January 5, 1985 is my only child's birthday. The anniversary of that birthday was last week.

After 27 years, I am still waiting. For the newness and greatness of that day and child to wear down. And for that shine of wonder to fade even just a bit.

Click HERE for another tribute to my son, "Spit" on LUNACY.