Missing those special moments

I get a cell phone message. Wow, it’s my son. Check the caller ID. I don’t recognize it, call it back.

He’s going to his first Boy Scout meeting (sans Dad). He’s talked to me about the Boy Scouts who’ve done presentations at school. My visitation restrictions are so tight (no overnights, no weekends) that I’ve been at a loss for an answer. [“Daddy would love to take you to Boy Scouts, but mommy won’t let him.”] I can’t tell him that, it’s too much truth for his age.

Gotta think quick, got to be enthusiastic, supportive, while hiding the gut wrenching emotion that I’m not there for his first Boy Scout meeting. “Oh boy, that should be fun” I say enthusiastically. “I guess so” he says. “Well it’s something new.” “Yeah.”

Maybe he would be more enthusiastic if I were there too. I guess that’s why he called.

But he was being driven there and he didn’t know where he was. Did his mom tell me about this? Hell, no. Where is she? Not with him, he used a phone outside my area code.

Oh well, get used to it. This will be the first of many things we miss out on while he grows up in the clutches of a mother who does not want her son to know his Dad too well.

And this is BIC?

* BIC = Best Interest of the Child, the often quoted but never exercised goal of Domestic Relations Court.