Grandpa and Theo
I will admit I have mother bear syndrome. I flinch at any noise while jogging, worried that a killer dog or squirrel will jump out of nowhere to harm my son. I grimace and squirm at someone who covers Theo's face with kisses, needing to protecting him from microscopic harm. (Air kisses people, it's freaking cold and flu season!) I constantly imagine horrific ways he could fall on the ground. And after almost four months, I still check to see if he is breathing at times. (I recently realized Jon was not going to stop breathing in the middle of the night. I've checked enough to know this.)
I felt a little better about myself when I saw a dad in a parking lot with his young son on his shoulders, and not too far behind was the mother, with a hand hovering about two inches from the little boy's back. Mother bears unite!