Yesterday we had brunch with our friends who just had their second baby. When we got there, the older son (21-months) was attached to his dad’s hip like a monkey. He was putting on the shy act and smooshing his face into his dad’s neck, then peeking around him to make sure we were still there.

As he warmed up his monkey qualities really came out and he climbed his father like a jungle gym and flipped and flopped all over the place. He’d reach out for me to hold him, which would be great for a few minutes, until he realized daddy wasn’t holding him and then he had to go back immediately. The interaction between the two of them was adorable.

After brunch I was snuggling the newborn (little feet! tiny hands! baby smell!) and Michael started playing with the older son. The kid was in heaven. He’d hide behind Michael and pull him backwards so Michael would “crush” him, then squeal and push him forward again. After that he was climbing all over him and couldn’t get enough of Michael flipping him over or tickling his feet. Michael was clearly having a great time and was laughing and smiling right along with the boy.

I was smitten all over again. I was completely blown away with how fantastic Michael was with him (not that I had any doubts), and once again my ovaries were doing a little happy dance. (Seriously, ovaries. NOT NOW.) Visions of our own little family flashed before my eyes and I had to look down at that tiny baby in my arms to hide the stupid grin that was spreading across my face.

He’s going to be a great dad. I cannot wait.