• It was a day like any other day, until I decided it wasn’t

    I was at work and struck by the hour: noon already? On a whim I begged off early, promising to make up the time later (a line borrowed from the procrastinator’s creed). This whim eventually brought me to my daughter’s school, just as her and her like were being released for the day. She wasn’t expecting me, and didn’t notice when I fell into step behind her, stride for untroubled stride. She was carrying a large paper bag: the end of the year, accumulated wealth from a well used second grader’s desk. Without comment or warning I plucked her burden from her grasp. She turned, perturbed, expecting to confront a bully. When she found me instead she looked a little worried, but that worried gaze quickly gave in to excited chatter when she learned I was there solely because I felt like it – because I wanted to see my kid.

    Later that day, when the day had no right to be called “day” anymore, Beth was settling down for bed. We said our prayers, tucked in the covers, and said our good nights. As I was closing the door Beth asked me to wait. She waved me over and I sat at her side.

    “Dad, today was my favorite day. I love you dad.”

    If words can melt a heart, then mine’s a puddle.

  • Hurt, and the other thing

    I find it hard to describe or pin it down to any particular part of my body, but it is most definitely there. Not so much now; but even little reminders tweak the senses. It can be a song on the radio, a movie on the tube, or my personal favorite, a well crafted work of fiction in the written word.

    The founding documents of our democracy talk of certain truths being self evident, but they don’t mention the truths that are most reliably self evident. I’ll grant them this however; it wouldn’t have served their purpose to speak of these truths: that all men will know pain, hunger, unfulfilled desire, loss. I defy any person to justify any of these truths; they simply are what they are. The problem with these truths is that we too often let them overshadow the others, even if this subset is only half of the equation. Oh how sweet it is when we are allowed to embrace this other half, joy, fulfillment, achievement.

    Most importantly, there’s love: my most reliable antidote to the less savory truths. I think this is one of the strongest draws of a good story. Whether it is a romantic comedy, a work of science fiction, or a piece of classic literature; at some point a good story with strong character development touches on my favorite truth. That’s when I feel the connection. That’s when I feel like the author could be describing me, under different circumstances. That’s when I feel the truth in my life, under my own circumstances. It’s thankfully not the only time, but its part of the draw, no, the addiction, to fiction.

    If I didn’t have to work today I could read all day.

  • Make a wish

    Have I written about our Diaper Genie before? It’s too late and I’m too tired to care. It’s writin’ time. Don’t make me go Old Testament on yo’ ass!

    I’m happy to announce that we’ve graduated to the stage 2 Diaper Genie liners. We’re so proud. To recap, the Diaper Genie is a sophisticated device for making diaper sausage links. They sell different thicknesses of liners for the sausages, depending on the load they must carry. Having just experienced the stage two liner, I’m more than a little worried about what this says I have to expect from my son’s diapers in the coming months. It seems that the stage two liners are the steel belted variety, specifically designed for solid food waste. And I thought diaper changes were bad now.

    Seven months isn’t too early for potty training, is it?