Dad pulled out several old albums for me to flip through.
"If you'd like to have any of those old photos, you can take them home with you."
"I'm not that much of a picture freak, " I said as I hurriedly flipped through the albums.
"Oh! I don't know. Maybe you wanted to take them to show Tonya, or just to have some pictures of you as a baby to show your kids or just to compare what you looked like as a baby to what you baby looks like."
I stopped flipping so fast... Turned back to the beginning of the album... and started again.
I was so young. It seemed so long ago. My hair was still bleach blond, almost white, and I vaguely remember any of the moments I was seeing in those photos.
My dad was so young when I was born. I am 30 years old expecting our first child in September.
What must my dad have been thinking when I was born? When I was a child...
Was he as terrified as I am right now? Terrified of "messing it up"... Terrified of....
The photos wouldn't suggest too much, but you still have to wonder.
And I did...
I see how young he was, and I have to think that I should be some degree less worried or frightened than he had to have been.
I also see a pride and excitement in those photos that I look forward to. 
I see a cluster of years growing up that I look forward to providing to my son or daughter.
I saw smiles and stories I cannot wait to create for my child.
I saw a hope and an excitement that shadows any fear of becoming a father.
Even if only for tonight...
