"Okay, I'll ask dad when he gets home."

There are a few things to know before marrying a woman with children. At the top of my own personal list of caveats is to warn you that you will never be "dad". That is to say, unless the father is just out of the picture and you legally adopt them, you will never be their father. You won't go to father/daughter dances. The state won't let you act as either parent or legal guardian when you go to get their license. You won't get to walk her down the aisle and give her away at her wedding. You aren't the one they cry out for when they are sick or scared.

But, in order to be a good step-dad, you do have to play the role of father every day. You have to drive them where they want to go. You have to pick them up. You have to help with homework. You have to punish. You have to have long talks. You have to listen. You have to teach them how to drive. You have to encourage them and assure them after they run into the parked car in front of them. You have to nurture them. You have to praise them. You have to hold their hair when they are sick. You have to stay by their bed in the hospital. You have to bring flowers to their productions.

You have to do all the work but you never get the name "dad" bestowed upon you (you don't get a name until the grandkids... I honestly can't wait!). For all your hard work you are just <insert name>.

However, every once in a great while, you get a reward for all of your hard work. Every once in a great while you get the unspoken nod that, "yeah, you aren't my dad, but you're doing a great job!" And those moments, my friend, are absolutely golden.

Tonight Kels asked Jooj if she could stay out late Thursday night to see the midnight showing of Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Jooj didn't mind 'cause Kels has only days left in her Senior career. But she wanted to make sure it was cool with me, which she knew it would be, and simply told Kels that she would check with me. I was at my soccer game and wouldn't be home for a while longer.

"Okay, I'll ask dad when he gets home."

I'm sure there was a pause followed by a mental correction on her part. But for that one moment, however brief, I was "dad". That moment was a pat on the back from Kels... "You've done well, <insert name>!"

100% | 176 lbs. | 0% (0 of 128) | 14% (7 of 50) | 37.53% (137 of 365) | 6.444% (12 lbs.)