This evening my wife decided to brave the Manhattan crowds in search of the perfect Christmas-themed bathroom curtains, and I was left alone with the Devil.  Despite the millions of hours I have spent alone with our child I still have to convince my wife that we will be fine without adult supervision.  Yes, in my mind I’m saying “Oh god please don’t leave me alone with… him!”  However the words that come out of my mouth are always “would you just leave, I know how to take care of our son.”  Anyway, she was gone and the Devil and I were bonding –   I was pulling him off of stuff and giving him timeouts, he was calling me names and being mischievous.  The usual.  Then he asked for dinner.  I agreed it was time to chow down.  I set a pot to boil and he immediately insisted that it was hot and that I should add the noodles.  I told him that the water wasn’t hot yet and he pouted a bit.  Then he called my name.  I prepared for another cooking lesson from my tiny Chef Ramsay. 

“Daddy!” 

“Yes, Devin?” 

“You’re a good daddy.” 

“What?”  I couldn’t hide my amazement. 

“You’re a good daddy,” he repeated with a toothy smile. 

“Thank you Devin.  That means a lot coming from you.”  I meant it. 

Maybe three minutes later he said “Shut up Daddy before I hit you in the mouth.”  He was tired of me singing Christmas songs.  Good thing I’m a good daddy because had I done to him what first came to my mind I would have been a very, very bad daddy.