Panchettona ('Punk-a-ton-a')

I didn't expect you, that's for damn sure-- oops, I mean darn sure. I didn't expect me to care, not like this. I didn't know joy had this sort of gooey feel, like a tide of Jello, especially when you spot me arriving to pick you up from school and you smile with your whole face.

I didn't expect I'd have trouble finding the English language words to describe the color and durability of my love for you.

Yeah, I showed you how to stand in the batter's box to hit a softball, but I was just having fun. You were the one who wanted to learn. And so I'm allowed to beam with pride that you went two-for-three in last Saturday's game when at the same time I don't care what your stats say.

I love that you have the secret family jewel tucked away in your DNA, as I do. I love that you tell me all about Tyler D, the boy at school you're in love with. I love that you call me "uncle" when your parents are around and "Ed" when they're not. And I love that you share your precious gummy worms with me, except the red ones. Even those sometimes, as when you have a multitude.

So thanks, panchettona, for filling a hole in my life I didn't even know was there. And keep the bat back just a bit.