One day, some girl is gonna like you.
She’ll think you’re cute and she’ll giggle when you walk past with your friends. She’ll sit in the stands at your baseball game. You’ll act tough and swing your bat back and forth while strutting out to home plate. She’ll yell for you. Your cheeks will turn bright red and you’ll work really hard not to bust out in a gigantic grin. You don’t mind the attention, but you’re not one to just give away you’re feelings that easily.
RIDE SAFE MY FRIENDS
Checkout Our Recommendation
You’ll ask her friends for her phone number. You’ll call her up, or text her when you finally work up the courage. I don’t really know what kids do these days. Maybe you’ll send her a tweet or an emoji or a little heart on Instagram. I hope you’ll call though. I hope you’ll have conversations with her and get to know her heart. Maybe you’ll tease her. Maybe you’ll make her laugh. Maybe you’ll tell her you thought it was really cool she came to your game.
You’ll flirt.
You’ll hold hands.
You’ll kiss.
You’ll ask her to be your girlfriend.
You’ll go on dates. You’ll forget the rest of the world exists. Your friends will punch you in the arm and say “dude, where have you been?” You’ll ask for money to take her to play Top Golf or bowling or out to eat. I’ll say no, and give you jobs as a way to earn some extra cash instead. (Gahhh…you have the meanest mom in the world.)
You’ll roll your eyes, but you’ll do it anyways. You’ll mow the grass. You’ll wash my car. You’ll haul all the cardboard to get recycled. You’ll do it because she’ll be worth it.
Just remember, I called you baby first.
One day, some girl is gonna love you.
She’ll love who you are. She’ll get how funny you are and your quirky little jokes, and appreciate how sensitive you can be. She’ll admire the way you work hard. And she’ll just nod and shake her head at the way you try to sneakily win arguments just like your father does.
She’ll love that you always have a plan. She won’t mind the way you get reserved around new people, and she’ll adore the way you stay loyal to the few people you open up to.
She’ll be proud of you. She won’t let you get away with always thinking you are right.
She’ll call you out when you deserve it.
She’ll get you.
She’ll understand you.
She’ll make you want to be the absolute best version of yourself.
You’ll get down on one knee. And I know you, you’ll plan something elaborate and beautiful and well thought-out, but you’ll keep the whole thing a secret. You’ll buy her the ring she cut out of a magazine when she was a little girl. You’ll look her father in the eyes and ask for his permission. You’ll ask her to be your wife. You’ll ask her to promise to give you the rest of her life, and you’ll promise to give her the very best of you.
She’ll say yes, of course. How could she not?
Just remember, I called you baby first.
You’ll walk me down the aisle to my seat on the first row. I’ll hold tight to your arm, but I’ll let you go. Love does that sometimes—it forces you to remove your grip on someone who no longer belongs to you, and cheers for them in the form of soft smiles and huge tears that flow freely as they take steps toward their exciting new life.
The big moment will come. Everyone will be looking at her, but I’ll be looking at you.
How your face lights up. How you still do that same thing you’ve always done where you work really hard not to bust out in a huge grin. How you fidget because being in front of all of those people makes you a little nervous. How you shine. How you treasure her.
Maybe you’ll live nearby.
Maybe you’ll live faraway.
But the time will come for you and your wife to grow your family. You’ll call me up and say it’s happening. You’ll be panicked, but you won’t show it. You’re so good under pressure. I’ll tell you how proud I am, and what a wonderful father you’re going to be. I’ll tell you to hold her hand the whole time, and to reassure her, and to tell her she looks beautiful no matter what.
We’ll hop in the car, your dad and me, and we’ll rush to the hospital.
We’ll wait anxiously in the lobby until you grab us and tell us it’s okay for us to come in the room and there you’ll be—holding your tiny daughter or son, just bundled up in a white swaddle, screaming because coming into a brand new world is scary, and that’s just what newborns do. You’ll bounce them and you’ll shush them and you’ll calm them.
And the only thing I’ll be able to think is:
I am so, so unbelievably proud I got to call you baby first.
This post originally appeared on the Facebook Page – Amy Weatherly
https://www.facebook.com/2010855982483981/photos/a.2028974880672091.1073741829.2010855982483981/2170817803154464/?type=3&theater
Or …. Ill raise a fine young gentleman, in high school he will meet(the love of his life) he will go to school early to walk her to class, stay late to make sure she makes it home, he watches her walk across the st by herself because her father is very strict. They are both honor roll. He makes her breakfast and brings it to school.and then breaks his heart to be with a soccer player. Her father only allows her to go to soccer games with her brother. Thats where she found attention.thats when she told my son that she found someone else. I should have warned him of the fact that he should not give his heart to a young girl. But he was happy .who was i to rain on his parade. I wanted to tell him people are shady , protect yourself, dont trust girls right away, or anyone for that matter. So now i am done , i wont wTch his younger bros be hurt. They will be prepared, sorry girls , nice guys finish last
Or he meets a dude because it’s too early to tell what he’ll prefer. HE might even wanna be called Them or They. The sentiment is cute if not cliché
She isn’t comparing, she is stating a fact. Daughters marry, and for the most part, gravitate more to their own family than his family. Nothing wrong with that, I think it happens to th3 vast majority of women. That being said, the mother of sons take a back seat, and watch as their son becomes the husband and father you nurtured him to be. Bottom line though, she called him baby first!