Another boy called me “Daddy”

Rafael gave me a strange look today when another boy at the indoor playground we attend, held my hand and called me, “Daddy.” The young boy was obviously confused, but the way Raf walked up holding his little yellow teacup looking at me, then the boy spoke, and raf looked at him, then quickly back at me, a tint shifted in the color of his cheeks and his eyes suddenly became very alive…

RAF: Is he telling the truth?
ME: Is who telling the truth.
RAF: HE just called you his father, please don’t play dumb with me.
ME: I am not his Father.
RAF: Why’d he call you “Daddy?”
ME: The child is clearly-
RAF: I thought that term was reserved for me.
ME: It is reserved for you.
RAF: Apparently not.
ME: Rafael, this child is younger than you, it’s probably the only word he knows.
RAF: I’m sorry when did age become an issue? Am I too young to be lied to?
ME: No.
RAF: So you’ve lied to me before?
ME: No.
RAF: Will I die if I eat ice cream before breakfast?


ME: Yes.
RAF: You’re sticking to that.
ME: Yes.
RAF: If I find out differently it’s my trust you’re going to lose.
ME: I’m aware of that. This is not my child. Perhaps, I remind him of his father.


RAF: It just seems like he knows you.
ME: This is the first time I’ve seen him.
RAF: That familial quality.
ME: Purely coincidental.
RAF: Sorry, if I seemed accusing.
ME: No problem. It was confusing.
RAF: He came right up to you and held your hand.
ME: If I were you, I’d have thought the same thing.
RAF: Ok.


I’m gonna play on the slides.
ME: Ok. I’m gonna, go back to the paper.

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