Smiles

Smiles.  My Dad has several different smiles – each one with its own meaning. 

He has the fake smile.  The one when he’s acting a little grumpy and you tell him to smile and stop being such a grouch.  You get the big fake cheese smile. 

He has the mischievous smile.  The one when he’s being difficult (although sometimes I think on purpose) and you call him on it and you get that little boy smile that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing and he has us all fooled – at least for the moment. 

He has the, oh so rare, happy smile.  I got one of those this morning.  Dad woke up really early – like 3 hours early.  Of course, he had to pee and I had to explain the catheter once again.  He said he was hungry so I pattered off to get him a breakfast bar to hold him over.  I couldn’t help but think how much this reminded me of years gone by raising my children – that put a little smile on my face.  When I got back to his room with his snack, I told him to eat it and try to go back to sleep or we were both gonna be cranky all day.  That’s when I saw it.  That sweet little happy smile that I will remember all day.