As the father of two daughters, and their only male influence in life, there are times when I feel like I’ve got to just come right out and give it to them straight. That those who are bloodthirstier, eat better. That this can’t be all fun and games. That life is hard. My daughters disagree.
I had a dream last night where my life flashed before my eyes. I woke up crying.
Thanks for your well-wishes. They’ve worked, so far.
This afternoon, while sowing seeds in our 10’x10′ garden in what has become known as the Great Green Experiment, my neighbor walked over to the fence. We talked about gardening, something else, something else, and then the vulture that made an appearance on our street over the weekend. The fact that this massive bird was feasting on a slow rabbit on our street was pretty amazing considering A) this is an urban neighborhood and B) I’ve never seen a turkey…
My only beef with God is the length of a dog’s life.
Being a parent is hard. Children are time consuming, money consuming, food consuming, and emotionally draining. People fill novels with the trials and triumphs of parenthood. And frankly, I didn’t even like kids before we had one of our own. It was so cool, however, that we had two. But you want to know what I love most about being a parent? Being a lion. The note here is an example of one that our youngest daughter Cozette (6) writes…
