On the fifth day of Halo, my drop pod gave to me… 5 golden elites, 4 jackal snipers, 3 skirmishers, 2 little grunts, And a brute with a gravity hammer.
The best part of today was not that he loved his presents, nor the happy dance that he did when saw some of them, nor even that he let me take a nap this afternoon while he played a computer game. The best part was that somewhere in the middle of playing with him, he and I had spontaneous conversations about what he wants to be when he grows up, and why his mom and I are not together. That last one was hard to handle at a second grade level while neither dodging the issue nor being disrespectful towards her, but I think I handled it well.
The worst part of today was later having to drive to a bar with him to get some of his presents from his mom out of the trunk of her car. It’s not as bad bad as that sounds, nor as bad as it could be, But neither is it a thing that made me happy. In fact, during the 15 minute drive there, it had me ruminating on the word “furious”, and how fury differs from mere extreme anger or rage. (If you’d like to know the difference, just mess with my kid and I’ll make it perfectly clear to you,)