Wanted

I have a confession to make: I have no idea what my kids' first words were. But I'm going to assume that each of them, when the time was right and they felt they had full control of their tongue and uvula, began with the words "I want." This is a safe assumption since they're so good at saying it now. It rolls off the tongue so easily and without much provocation whatsoever. And it's all the time, I'm not just talking about yesterday at the birthday party when they wanted a popsicle and they wanted something to drink and they wanted a popsicle and they wanted to go over there or over here or they wanted a popsicle. I mean they want like they're professional Wanters. You know what I want? I want them to stop wanting. I'm their father, their provider, and as such I want them to want for nothing. I expect them to just stop one day, look around, and say, "You know something, Father? We have everything we need. We're good. You go take some time for yourself now. You go sailing." But that day won't come. If I won the lottery tomorrow (please let me win the lottery tomorrow!!) and it was worth $50 million, the kids would say, "I want $11 million." (The discrepency in amounts there is because if I won $50M, I would only tell them about 10 of it, but you get the idea.) The kids aren't spoiled, though some people, the People Without Kids, would say they are. We actually don't have enough to spoil them, which is probably why they want. They want to watch a movie, they want to go outside, they want to go back inside, they want to play with the lighter. Where will the wanting end? I'll tell you where it better end, it better end with them wanting to buy a sailboat for their father. But then they'll probably want to go sailing with me, and then they'll want me to let them back in the boat when they get tired of swimming alongside...

The wanting, it never ends.