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I never wanted to be a fireman.
Do you know what it means to “put out fires”? I’m talking about the metaphorical kind. There is a kind of thrill to spending your entire day running around putting out fires. Due to low self-esteem, I get a kick out of the fact that people think enough of me to let me try to put them out. Silly, silly me! How easily I am duped! Also, the day seems to fly. No day moves faster than those when you’re running around with your hair on fire. There just seem to be more important things to occupy your time than paying attention to the time. What’s more, I couldn’t put all of the fires out today, so there’ll be more waiting for me tomorrow.
YES!!
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Giving thanks.
My wife is in the front seat. She looks back at Beth who has just said something. It appears it was amusing. Cheryl looks happy, a mischievous smile on her face. She says something to Beth that I can’t hear. Joe starts to laugh. Annette reaches a hand from the steering wheel and gives Cheryl’s knee a mock slap. We’ve turned the corner. The trials of the morning have been left at home, and it appears that we’re ready for a good time at last.
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Thanksgiving.
On the road to Sarasota, we struggle to learn the lesson of sharing with others. There is one DVD player with sound system in the car. The adults want to talk. The child wants to watch a movie. The person that fits somewhere in between wants to listen to iTunes. The child doesn’t like to watch movies with distractions. The ‘tweener doesn’t want to listen to any of the above. After a minor dispute, the child has learned to listen over the conversation. I’ve found my groove.