Interlude: I Hope He Has a Dog

I once heard that someone I used to love had a kid who never missed a day of school.

Not one.

Not for a cold, a fever, a heartbreak — nothing.

It was publicized. Celebrated.

Like a badge of honor.

Like proof of something.

But all I could think was that poor kid.

Either he was never sick — which seems unlikely — (really?) or he was sick and still showed up, because somewhere along the line he learned that showing up mattered more than slowing down.

More than rest.

More than being okay.

It’s not really about the attendance.

It’s about the pressure. The performance.

The message that you don’t get to fall apart.

That love is earned through consistency.

That absence is weakness.

That perfection is the price of being enough.

I don’t know him.

I don’t know his story.

But I know the kind of family tree that grows kids like that.

Because I climbed out of one, too.

Today, in a moment of quiet self-pity, I called myself a jobless loser and immediately thought of one of my favorite movie lines — The Kid, with Bruce Willis.

The kid finds out what he grows up to be and says:

“I grow up to be a dogless, chickless loser.”

And honestly? Same energy.

Only I’m not dogless.(Although some days, I really, really think about it - Diana is a handful).

And I hope — more than anything —

I hope he has a dog that makes him laugh, drags him outside when it’s raining and teaches him that you don’t have to be perfect to be loved.

From the Hill, with love and fur 🐾