I hold you, cautious to prop up your head, adjusting you to release trapped air bubbles. You are contained, supported- completely dependent. But not for long. You grow and I must release. Now you crawl, you can distance yourself from me at will. I must pursue without smothering. Now you walk, you seem to think you can fly. I’m tired tonight; you are wild with play. Must I bathe you, dress you, tuck you in? Hurry up and fly. When I said, “Say ahhhh,” I didn’t realize that would be the last time I would get to brush your teeth.

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Phil Nellis is a father of 3 boys: Sylas, Judah, and Ezra. He is a graduate of Mars Hill Graduate School and lives in Seattle.

100 Words are shorts that I’ve asked my friends to write on various subjects. They are intended to be small windows into how they view the world and experience reality. The only instructions they are given are a.) choose a subject on which to write and b.) the short must be exactly 100 words. How they interpret the subject and the form in which the 100 words are produced is up to them.