"Daddy, Daddy!"
Albert turned toward the voice of his little son, smiling as he came galloping in happily. In his hand he had a wrinkled piece of paper, a little picture with sloppy labels, half in French and the other half in German, scribbled on the page. He set his book aside, lifting the boy into his lap. "What do you have?"
Dolph looked at the paper, then back at him. "It's a card, but it's a surprise."
Albert's eyebrows rose. "It is?"
Dolph nodded, awkwardly hiding the wrinkled paper behind his back. Today was September 19th: Albert's birthday. "I got a present for you, but you can't have it."
His father smiled holding him close. "I can't? Then it's not for me," he teased, chuckling when Dolph frowned.
"Not yet!" the child said, throwing the paper on the floor. He tried in vain to push Albert back as the man got up to get the paper. "Not yet, not yet!"
Albert sighed, hiding another smiled. "Dolph, paper doesn't go on the floor. You know that."
"Not yet!"
"Dolph."
"Not yet!"
Albert sighed, giving in. He sat back patting the boy's back and rubbing it. "Not yet," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He waited around five minutes, before sitting back up.
Dolph had been up most of the night, sneaking around. Francoise and Albert had gotten up several times to put him back to bed, and he still got up later. It seemed the three year old boy was more excited about Albert's birthday than Albert himself. Which was true in the sense that Albert was not too thrilled to be aging another year.
"Can I look now?" Albert asked, petting the child's silver hair back.
Dolph thought about this for a few seconds, then nodded. "I suppose so," he sighed, imitating what his father had done to him several times right down to the frown. Albert could not help but grin.
He reached down and picked up the card, looking carefully over the colored paper. There were three round figures on the paper around the same size, each of them labeled 'Mommy,' 'Daddy,' and 'Dolph.' There were several mistakes, and his letters rotated in places between German and French.
"Thank you," Albert cried in mild excitement. He held the little boy close to him, turning to smile at his wife when he felt her hand on his shoulder.
"I thought we were going to wait, Dolph," his mother said lightly. She had a small smile on her face, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Do you want to give Daddy his present now?"
Dolph frowned. "I had to give it to him." He nodded, suddenly catching on to the last part.
"Sit still," Albert chuckled, trying to hold the squirming boy as his wife went to fetch his gift. He repositioned Dolph on his lap, sighing when Francoise brought a colorful, but sloppily wrapped gift.
"It's from Dolphie," she said, handing it to him. "He wrapped it, too."
Albert took it from her, holding Dolph on his lap as he tried to open it one handed. Dolph grew too excited, reaching over and tearing the wrapping off as if it were his own gift.
"Open! Open!" the boy cried.
"Alright, Dolph. It's open," Albert sighed, smiling as his wife lifted the child into her arms.
"You're supposed to let Daddy do it," she said.
Dolph was too smart for her in his own mind. "I did."
Albert pulled out the gift: a silver picture frame with protruding leaves and vines all over it. The picture in the frame was of the first time they had ever held him. Francoise was still in bed, holding the newborn Dolph. Dolph was sleeping cutely, very content after his birth, and Albert had been awkwardly supporting his head with his left hand.
"See?" Dolph cried.
"I see," Albert said. He brushed his hand over the frame, smiling. "Thank you, Dolph," he said, standing. He walked looking down at his picture, noting Francoise and Dolph right behind him, going to the end table the phone sat at. He set the picture down there, knowing that it was a spot everyone would look when they came over.
"Thank you," he said, smiling as he grabbed his son's wrists gently and kissing his cheek. "I love it."
And he did.