Every father dreads that question. My answer, like most dads, is simple:

“I don’t really want anything.”

Of course, that answer is never acceptable and conjures only more badgering.

“There’s got to be SOMETHING you want, Dad. What is it?”

Sometimes I feel like saying, “I want a new Tesla.” But I don’t really want a new Tesla or Mercedes. To tell the truth, I don’t even want a previously-owned luxury car. I am pretty much satisfied with the materials things I have. I have learned the truth our Lord spoke: Our lives do not consist in the abundance of the things we own.

The things I really want for Christmas are never tangible objects. For instance, I would really like to have a good night’s sleep. Now, you must be pushing 50 from one side or the other to appreciate this wish. A good night’s sleep consists of two key ingredients: 1) comfort during the sleeping process, and 2) no aches and pains after the night is over and the alarm clock sounds.

I would give nearly anything I own to be able to sleep like some of my grandchildren. They come for a visit, pile up on the couch or a pallet, and zonk out for a sleep Shakespeare would call “death’s second self” – a sleep so sound that earthquakes and hurricanes cannot disturb it.

Once Sandra and I had children, the nights of deep, soul-leaving-the-body sleep were over. When that first child is born, the Lord equips parents with some sort of Mama-Daddy radar. A parent can ignore all normal sounds, no matter how loudly they bash the ear. But if a child or grandchild takes a funny breath – BAM! – we are wide awake.

I am also at the age where the Itis boys visit regularly. You know the Itis boys: Burce, Arthur, Fibro. I go to bed embracing hope for a good night’s sleep only to awaken in the clutches of these pain vendors.

Sadly, my children cannot grant me a good night’s sleep, so what I most want from them is time and attention. My children – and my adult grandchildren – are busy. They have grown up, moved away from home, and have lives of their own that no longer revolve around their mother and me. I miss them.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am proud of them. I am proud of the lives they have made and are making. The end of good parenting (and I hope Sandra and I were good parents) is producing independent children who can go forth and do likewise.

But my house, which once bustled with activity, rang with singing, and thundered with sibling disputation, is a quieter and gentler place now. Once I saw all my children every day, but now I see them infrequently. Sometimes I long for the days we sat around the kitchen table and played Uno, delightedly dropping Draw Fours-bombs on each other.

I am not saying I lack things to do. Since I retired, I often wonder how I ever found time to hold down a job – much less two or three like I did for much of my life. My kids are busy, too, so we must make time for each other. To their credit, my children do.

But if I am greedy about anything, I want more of them – more of their voices, more of their laughter, more of their tacky jokes usually aimed at my balding head and my habit of telling the same story over and over.

In the end, what I most want is time with them.

Many of you understand exactly what I mean.

For those with young children who cling to your skirts, wipe their noses into your dress or pants, and seem to want more attention than you can possibly provide – enjoy these days while you can. Treasure the time you have together, for it is the most precious gift you will ever receive.

 One day the sweetest sound you will ever hear is:

“Dad, I’ll be over to spend Christmas with you and Mom.”

Mike Parker is a columnist for Neuse News. You can reach him at mparker16@gmail.com.