I Don't Want Daddy

In a cozy little house lived a five-year-old boy named Jay. He had big, bright eyes and two cute little dimples on his cheeks whenever he smiled. More than anything in the whole wide world, Jay loved playing with his dad. He loved being tossed high up in the air, and he loved riding on his dad's shoulders, pretending to be the mightiest king in the land.

But Jay had one small, bad habit.

Whenever the clock on the wall went tick-tock, tick-tock, and it was time for bed, his dad would gently say, "Jay, it's time to go to sleep!" Jay would pout, shake his head, and say, "I don't want Daddy!"

Whenever his dad brought out Jay's little toothbrush and said, "Jay, it's time to brush your teeth!" Jay would hide behind the sofa, shake his head, and say, "I don't want Daddy!"

When the living room floor was covered in scattered toys, looking like a tiny battlefield, his dad would point to the toy box and say, "Jay, remember to put your toys away when you're done playing." Jay would hug his favorite toy robot tight and say, "I don't want Daddy!"

Even when his dad sat down to help him with his homework, Jay would cross his arms impatiently and huff, "I don't want Daddy!"

To Jay, saying "I don't want Daddy" felt like a magic spell. He thought that as long as he said those words, he wouldn't have to do anything he didn't want to do. He just didn't realize that every time the magic spell slipped out of his mouth, it made his dad's heart ache.

Then, one day, something terrible happened. On his way home from work, Jay's dad was in a bad car accident and had to be rushed to the hospital. He lay perfectly still on a crisp white hospital bed, his eyes firmly closed. No matter how loudly or softly Jay called his name, his dad wouldn't wake up.

The doctors said his dad was in a very deep sleep and that he might never wake up again.

As Jay looked at his dad lying there so quietly, his heart felt incredibly heavy. Inside his little head, his own words kept echoing over and over: "I don't want Daddy... I don't want Daddy... I don't want Daddy..."

A scary thought crept into Jay's mind: Is it because I kept saying I didn't want Daddy that now Daddy really doesn't want me?

He couldn't hold it in anymore. He threw himself against the edge of the bed, his tears falling like pearls from a broken string. Choking back his sobs, Jay cried, "Daddy, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have kept saying I didn't want you. Please come back, okay? I promise I'll be a good boy and listen. I only want Daddy..."

When Jay went back home, the house was far too quiet.

There was no one to tell him it was bedtime. There was no one to remind him to brush his teeth. There was no one to ask him to clean up his toys, and no one to tell him to do his homework.

He could stay up as late as he wanted, skip brushing his teeth, and leave his toys everywhere—but Jay wasn't happy at all. He stared at the empty sofa and could almost see his dad sitting there, smiling at him. It was then that Jay realized just how much he missed his dad's voice. In that moment, Jay didn't want to do whatever he pleased; he only wanted his dad to come home.

From that day on, Jay became a completely different boy.

He finished his homework all by himself. After dinner, he marched straight into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Before bed, he neatly packed all his toys back into their toy box. And when it was time for sleep, he quietly climbed into his bed all on his own. He held onto one very strong belief in his heart: "If I am a good boy, Daddy will definitely feel it, and he will definitely come back."

Every day after school, Jay went to the hospital to visit his dad. He would lean close to his dad's ear and whisper all about his day.

"Daddy, I drew a picture at school today. It's you and me, flying a kite in the park."

"Daddy, my teacher taught us a new song today. Can I sing it for you?"

"Daddy, can you hear me? You have to wake up soon so you can see what a good boy I've become."

A whole month went by, and his dad still looked like he was fast asleep. He hadn't moved at all.

The doctors gently told Jay that his dad might never wake up. Hearing this made Jay terribly sad, but he refused to give up. He held his dad's hand tightly and said with absolute certainty, "Daddy, I know you will wake up! I will keep being a good boy and wait for you. Please come back and play with me, okay?"

Another month passed. One afternoon, Jay was chattering excitedly by his dad's bed. "Daddy! I have a secret to tell you! I learned how to wash the dishes today!"

Just as Jay finished his sentence, he felt something. The large fingers resting in his little hands... they moved! Just a tiny bit.

Jay's eyes went wide. He couldn't believe it. He watched as his dad's eyelids fluttered slightly, and then, very slowly, opened!

"Daddy! You're awake!" Jay burst into happy tears.

His dad was awake! He was really, truly awake!

Jay hugged his dad tightly, crying and talking all at once. "Daddy, I'm so sorry. I will never, ever say 'I don't want Daddy' again."

His dad gave him a weak but loving smile. Using all the strength he had left, he reached out to pat Jay's head. In a soft, gentle voice, he said, "Oh, my silly boy... While I was sleeping, I could hear your voice the whole time. I heard how wonderful and good you were being every single day. So, I told myself I had to get better quickly, just so I could come back and see how much my little Jay has grown."

Not long after, his dad was well enough to leave the hospital. When they finally walked through their front door, his dad was amazed to see how neat and tidy the house was. Jay wasn't just doing his homework, brushing his teeth, and putting his toys away without being asked—he was even helping wash the dishes!

From that day on, Jay never once said, "I don't want Daddy." Now, his absolute favorite thing to say in the whole wide world was, "I love you, Daddy!"