DADDY!!!!!

That's the greeting I got yesterday when I got home from work, an exuberant and jubilant little boy pointing and repeatedly screaming my name, making me feel like an out-and-out hero.

Man, that's rewarding.

He's said my name many times before obviously, and he always says it when I first walk in, but never before have I gotten the treatment I did yesterday.

Everyone should keep a 20-month-old around the house - it makes the mundane routine of going to work and coming home feel like returning from the hunt, to an appreciative and loving family in dire need of the sustenance you've secured.

Poetic, perhaps, but it's awesome the way a kid can make you feel significant. It's a phenomenon that was echoed recently when Jackson woke up in a midnight fit, screaming and sobbing in reaction to some unknown nightmare.

I fetched him from the bedroom and held him in my arms, and the sobbing quickly faded. Within minutes his eyes were heavy and he was ready to be put back down.

It reminded me of how comforting my parents were to me when I was scared in the night, and how their presence was automatic salvation from the boogey man.

It made me feel so special to provide that comfort to my own child, by being nothing more special than Daddy.

And how much more special would you ever want to be.