“He’s Just Adjusting,” My Wife Said — But My Son Didn’t Look “Fine”
From the outside, our life looked normal.
Modest house. Two working parents. One kid who used to be bright and loud and curious.
Then my night shifts started.
More money. Less time. And more nights where my wife and son were home without me.
My father-in-law stepped in fast.
He offered to “help.”
He offered to “check on the house.”
He offered to “make sure the boy is settled.”
My wife was grateful.
She’d lost her mom a few years earlier, and her father became the fixed point she clung to.
And I kept my discomfort to myself because that’s what people do when the person making them uneasy is labeled “family.”
But my son changed.
He got quieter.
He stopped running to the door when I came home.
He started having nightmares.
He started apologizing for things he didn’t do.
One night he clung to my leg so hard I felt his nails through my jeans.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered. “Please.”
I leaned down. “Why, buddy?”
He looked up at me with eyes that were too old for his face.
“Because Grandpa comes when you’re not here.”
My wife heard him and immediately jumped in.
“He’s just trying to keep you home,” she said. “He’s dramatic. He misses you.”
My son didn’t look dramatic.
He looked scared.
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