One day, you will fly.
You keep telling me so. It must be true.
I’m not sure where your obsession with flying came from, but it’s consistent. You don’t talk about flying in a plane like a pilot. You want to fly like a bird with wings and magic like Tinkerbell.
Your hopefulness about the prospect of flying comes and goes. Optimism was in the air this morning, and you drew a picture of yourself with wings and a crown. When you presented me the art you said, “This is what I’ll look like when I’m older and can fly.” You also told me you’ll dye your hair red when you’re older to look like Ariel from the Little Mermaid. We agreed that we can revisit that idea when you’re a teenager and no earlier. I should also note this is the moment in history when Disney+ launched, influencing your thinking, and I will gladly pay Disney for all the digital babysitting time for years to come.
Sometimes pessimism and disappointment appear, and you whine about how much you want to fly with fear it won’t happen. We don’t really see people fly when they’re not on TV, so I can understand the concern.
Here’s what I like about your dream to fly: it’s a big idea. Sometimes big ideas happen, sometimes they don’t. But they surely push you toward something bigger and more rewarding than would have happened without the pursuit of the idea.
So I say aim big, keep figuring out how to fly. Take a big leap and big risk to make it happen.
If you fall, I promise to catch you and we’ll try again.
Love, Dad