• Meanwhile, back at the hospital…

    All Children’s Hospital is in a nice part of St Petersburg (FL). Tree lined brick roads and the understated architecture of the early 20th century create a sedate setting. There’s just one problem though; when you’ve gotten up at three in the morning to take your son to the hospital minor surgery, the last thing you need is to use words like “sedate.”

    On the bright side, the tubes in the ears thing went well (it’s all the rage with the kids these days). Adam came home, took a four hour nap (which his grateful papa emulated), and woke up as good as new.

  • Christmas past

    Christmas as an adult is not as fun as Christmas as a child. Just the fact that you’re not up at 4:30 a.m. with giddy enthusiasm on Christmas morning is evidence enough. Then again, maybe you are (in which case… as the British might say, “Bloody good for you”).

    None of this means that Christmas can’t be good, or even down right fun for adults. Even balanced against hauling your kid out of Church (to warn them to behave), hauling your family around town (to hunt and gather for gifts), or hauling yourself out of bed (to plead with your giddy kids to go back to bed at 4:30 a.m.)… Christmas can be a real hoot.

    This year I got to see my son rip into some wrapping paper, by himself, for the first time. I got to see my daughter’s face when she finally got that Gameboy game she’s wanted for six months. I got to see the box for Mac OS 10.4 up close. I got to see my wife’s tear streaked face as allergies once again ravaged her body (I meant to put that in the last paragraph, but I forgot).

    There was no unbridled joy as I opened my gifts. There was no spoiled rotten despair when I didn’t get exactly what I wanted. In it’s place, there was the warm feeling of knowing I’d helped give my kids what I had when I was as a child… an honest to goodness, kick in the pants Christmas… filled with toys, junk food, and some mid-afternoon down time to sleep it all off.

    If it doesn’t get any better than this, it’s fine by me.

  • Entry number 1000

    I think an entry that has nothing interesting or new to say is a fitting metaphor for this blog. If you haven’t been able to read all 1000, imagine writing them.