Don’t Mess with Hades

With Ian starting school, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that my son is smarter than me, and will start to talk more slowly and use smaller words once he realizes that fact. But I could comfort myself in the constants: gravity, DNA is DNA is DNA, a negative times a negative equals a positive (say it!), and that our solar system is comprised of one star and nine planets. Nine!

Fact or Fiction

Tim posted this quotation from the autobiography of G.K. Chesterton: ‘…the real child does not confuse fact and fiction. He simply likes fiction. He acts it, because he cannot as yet write it or even read it; but he never allows his moral sanity to be clouded by it.’ Which is the wonderful thing about […]

The Weaker Sex

If the headlines of Men’s Health are any indication, the only health problems I need worry about are fatted abs and an idling sex drive. But, really, I don’t think much about my health. For a twenty-eight-year-old male, the only message I’ve heard is that, at some point, I’ll need to have my prostate examined. Even that usually comes with a punchline.

The Penultimate Sacrifice

After we were finally allowed into the building and staging area, the son started dancing. Knees bent inward, hopping from foot to foot, standing on his toes. Even if you’ve never had children, you know what this means….The closer we came to the ride, the stronger the urge. A combination increasing exponentially toward the moment when the father came to a Father’s inevitable conclusion.