The boy is too much of me

The Boy takes after me more than I can begin to explain.

Let me just say this for the benefit of those who know me well, then I will attempt to explain:

The Boy twirled today.

That's right, he just started walking yestreday, and tonight he made this beautiful, smooth, controlled and completely random 360º as he strolled along the edge of the coffee table. Wow.

In case you don't know, I twirl. Not so much of late, because life hasn't made me feel so twirly these days, but historically I am known to twirl quite a bit for someone of my age and lifestyle choice. Some have even gone so far as to claim that I flit, the veracity of which I can neither confirm nor deny at this time.

And now my first-born son, who already looks more like his father than can possibly be permitted, is twirling with some of his first steps? It is quite too much to be borne, not just by me his overwhelmed proud papa, but by the world, which did nothing, nothing at all to deserve another creature like me. I have to keep reminding myself: he is his own person. He will have his own things. He will not be another you. I hope this is true. He can look like me, and stuff like that. That's pretty cool. He can have some of my more desirable personality traits; I'm okay with that. But Lord, a twirler? It is too much...