Swings I could feel my entire body hurting.

Every muscle underneath my skin shouted against my mind's will, but I believe I had gone slightly insane in that moment. I didn't care about my body. I didn't care about my mind. I could only focus on a single thing: building up a safe swing. I had tried before, of course. I had tried six times, actually. Eddie or Edgard Monroe, as he introduces himself -, my best friend, is the tester, and every time he hopped on that plank of wood the ropes would break down, or the wooden seat would snap in half. My swings never worked. I had tried to follow the instructions from eHow.com the regular way, and when that hadn't worked, I tried the creative way; I had tried to build it in six sane manners, but in that moment I was giving a shot to the insane way, I guess. I hit the nail until it sunk slightly in the wood, and took a deep breath to try to contain my tiredness. It was early maybe too early, some would say. But I was so sure that I would only remember my new build-up strategy (the crazy one, you know?) if I put it to test straight away. Therefore, as only someone following a crazy strategy could, I jumped out of bed in the wee ours of morning. Beelining around the boxes in my bedroom that were still leftover from when we moved, two weeks ago (yes, I know, six tries in two weeks is a horrible number. Maybe this house is cursed?), I made my way down the stairs frenetically. Grabbing my hammer, some nails, rope and a piece of wood I started my task and here I was, God knows how long later, knock, knock, knock, hammering that mad plan out of my head. I was almost done with the nails when the kitchen door opened to reveal the disheveled figure of my wife, Ally. She looked gorgeous. Her blond hair shimmered like gold underneath the rising sun's light, and seven years ago, when we first met, it had been this specific trait about her that had made me fall in love with her. Ally's face was contorted into an expression that could only be summarized as pained as the wind picked up a shifty pace, and danced around her and our new home, taking away the fall leafs in a gold and auburn whirlwind.

Good morning, she whispered, coming closer. I cleaned the perspiration off of my forehead and chin before I stretched myself over the unfinished swing to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, going back to work immediately. I felt, rather than saw, as Ally's eyebrow raised slowly, a habit she had gained from watching too many Elvira movies with her aunt Doloris as a kid. As she spoke, I could easily perceive the subtle note in her voice that indicated she was worried about my degree of (in)sanity. Why are you acting like a ninny at six o'clock in the morning, Will? Pretending I was deaf sounded suddenly like a good plan, so I continued to hammer silently (or not). Will? Is everything ok? I need to finish this, I finally answered, hammering the wooden plank again. Maybe the nail was sunk just about enough, because there was a gentle crackle, and suddenly the wood snapped in half. The excessive amount of nails I had hammered into it fell on the dew-wet grass. I stared at the two pieces of wood sadly, barely managing to understand that all of my efforts over the course of the last hours had been wasted. Shoving my face into my hands I grumbled, and allowed the hammer to join the nails on the bed of leafs around me. This was great. Another swing that hadn't worked out. Another plan that hadn't worked, another thing in which I had failed. Ally's hand suddenly weighted on my shoulder. I didn't want her to be here, comforting me. I didn't want her to watch me fail over and over again. I wasn't good enough for her, I had never been, and she couldn't figure this out right now not now, when we had just had the most beautiful and perfect baby in the world, when we had to worry about little Samantha. Will...? her voice was so sweet, however, that I just couldn't hold myself back. I needed Ally. I needed her to keep on going, to keep on standing up, to face this new disappointment and despite the fact that my life had always been so full of them, lately I had learned to trust Ally to help me stand in face of adversity. Raising my eyes I stared at her silently. She sat by my side in the damp ground and held

my hands. What happened?, was the simple question she asked me. It took me a long moment of pondering to decide if I should or should not tell her the truth and I decided that I should, in the end. I trusted her more than I trusted anyone or anything else in the universe, and she loved me and understood me well enough to know that I hadn't gone crazy I just really, really wanted my daughter to have a decent and safe swing. I'm trying to build a swing for Sammy. She nodded her head as if that made complete sense and held my hands a bit tighter. I felt the heat emanating from her palms, swimming up my veins, invading and filling my entire body, and I sighed. I can't make the swing work. I can't get this right. I keep on making mistakes... What am I doing wrong, Ally? There was a long, pregnant pause. The wind continue swirling around us, a whispered song that told us about the upcoming winter, and then Ally sighed and leaned closer to me. Will, she whispered, and I could feel my heart sinking slowly You are a wonderful father. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against hers as her words sunk in. I was not a wonderful father. I couldn't do anything right. I couldn't even make a stupidly simple swing correctly! How could I be a wonderful father? I had never been a dad before, I had never taken care of anyone, and Sam was so tiny and fragile that I was scared all the time that I would hold her too tight and would break her in half (much like it had happened repetitively to the swings and with my first skate, and with my upper-arm on that one soccer game in 1993). I was going to fail in this too, just like I had failed in so many other things before. I wasn't wonderful father material. I just couldn't be a good father my father had failed, and so would I, because bad things like these come with your genes. But by God, how I wanted Ally to be right. So I did exactly what any other intelligent man would do in my situation: I groaned and slipped away from my wife, hiding my face in my hands once again and praying silently that she would

never realize that I could never, under any circumstances, be good enough. I was William Huntington, the incorrigible, immature, complete idiot that had tendencies towards failure. I should never have received the role of father. I was a disaster on the making. Suddenly, Ally's arms snaked unannounced around my waist, and she hugged me. The air was invaded by the smell of moonflower soap of her skin and I felt my eyes filling up with tears. I should never have become a father. I was going to fail miserably. I did not deserve to be Ally's husband and I did not deserve to be the father to Ally's daughter. My wife was perfect, her baby was perfect, and I was a perfect ninny. William she called me again, and I couldn't look up at her. I was afraid she had finally figured out the truth I had tried so hard to hide from her that I was not and would never be the man of her dreams. I was afraid she could read all the fear in my eyes, all those emotions I had to try so hard to hide from her so she would never discover just how much of a failure I truly was but she did not wait for me to give her any sign of acknowledgement. She continued speaking, not waiting for my interest, not caring about the fact that I wanted to run and hide in some place she would never find me again. She just continued speaking resolutely, her voice sounding firm and gentle at the same time, and I listened to her in silence, against my will You are a wonderful father. You are a wonderful man. And, despite the fact that you can't finish this stupid swing..., she poked the pieces of plywood with her feet, looking mildly contrived and absolutely adorable You are going to finish many other things. You are going to teach Sam to walk, and you are going to teach her how to dance the waltz, and how to cut off a jerk, and, most importantly, how to be completely and utterly happy. You are a wonderful father, and you are going to be a phenomenal friend to Sammy I finally raised my face from my hands and stared deeply in her green eyes. For some odd reason there was something in those beautiful irises that shone true to me, and I decided to believe her. She wasn't lying. I would be a wonderful father. I would finish that job, and I would do it well. Why?, I caught myself asking even before I could convince the rest of my body that

Ally was right. Because you love her. And loving her is enough. She smiled at me, and I couldn't help myself anymore. Leaning over, I kissed her square on the lips, happy that she had chosen me despite all my defects. She was amazing. She was brilliant. I loved her too much. Yeah, I whispered when I finally caught my breath again, my lips fluttering lovingly over hers as I formed the words I guess swings are superfluous...