Growing Down

Growing Down

"Well, we're off. Scott, get your skates and your stick," Pinky called from the front door. "Do you guys downstairs need anything?"
"No thanks. We'll stay here and guard this television set," I replied as I settled, semi-recumbent, into the bean bag chair to take in what was left of a Jacques Cousteau program with Kirk, my three year old.
Kirk was engrossed. He had his left thumb in his mouth and the square foot remainder of his favorite baby blanket in his right hand and next to his nose. He acknowledged my presence by hooking his right leg over my left with warm familiarity. We watched as the accented narration described a wreck exploration. When the commercial came, Kirk looked up at me and said, "Dad."
"Uh huh."
"Will I be as big as Scott?"
"In a few years," I replied, only partly attentive.
The wreck dive resumed with the music and bright undersea colors. We were 15 minutes into the adventure. The commercials came again.
Kirk looked up at me again. His thumb was out of his mouth, but he was still holding his blanket near his nose.
"Why do you hold your blanket up like that?" I asked.
"Smell it," he answered with warm satisfaction. The telling seemed to make it even better. A second passed. He asked, "Am I growing up, Dad?"
It was the second query, and I gave it a little thought this time. Wanting to encourage an aspiring younger brother, I said, “Yes. You’re growing up. You will be able to go to Wood River School and be on the Pilots Hockey Team too. You’ll do all the stuff that Scott does.”
The show was back on again, and we watched as they fed fish and retrieved some wreckage for the finale of the show. As the credits were rolling, Kirk looked up at me and said," Dad."
"Uh Huh."
"I don't want to grow up," he said. It was not the answer that I was anticipating. I realized that he had been struggling with his problem. Had something happened to him recently? I found myself trying to think of a response and the silence was growing. I needed something to fill the gap, keep him rolling, tell me how he was feeling.
Kirk saved me the trouble. He said, "I want to grow down." He said it with resolution. He put his thumb back in his mouth and pulled his blanket up into smelling distance, ready for the next program. He was quite satisfied with this solution.
"Growing down," I thought, "Now there is a concept." I broadened my perspective. "I want to grow down too," I said.
Kirk didn't reply. He seemed content, and I thought we had our answer. The next show was news. At the first break, he said, "Dad,” and he looked up at me. “How are we going to grow down?"
We were down to the nitty gritty. "I don't know," I said.
He pulled his blanket up a little. His eyes closed and he was gone.