A long time ago I realized I would never again be known as "Keith" except to a select few. For example, when I married Delores, we moved in to a new neighborhood near the university and started an exciting life together. Attending church with a charismatic, lovely red-head got me a lot of attention. "Look, there's Delores' husband!" Only the bishop and a few friends new Delores' husband's name.
Then I became a daddy, and we moved again. Now I attend church with the same wonderful red-head, and a darling, precocious toddler. Everyone knows Abigail, so the nondescript tall brunette dude walking alongside Abigail must be "Abigail's dad". No "Keith" there.
One of Abigail's best friends comes to visit from time to time. One day, his mom asks him: "Would you like to go see Abigail?"
"No," was the reply. Not today I suppose.
However, his mother continued, "Abigail is going to see her dad. Do you want to see Abigail's daddy?"
"Yeah!"
And so it was that they walked in to our driveway with a little toddler boy chanting "Abidaddy, Abidaddy."
There's an old saying that goes: Fathers are those people who keep pictures where their money used to be. I suppose we lose our name with our money, but I don't mind so much. For a few minutes, Abidaddy was a cooler fella than Keith ever could have been.
From Michael: Oh, the joys of parenthood. I'm sure you've noticed the same thing when you walk through Mom's door. "Oh, Abigail's here!" Not Keith. Not Delores. Just Abigail.
