Well, as those who've read my blogs--or those who race to catch up now--will know, I've lately quit my job of 16 years in preparation for a move. Actually, my job ends next week, but I'm taking a Vacation of Death right now. The move happens mid-next month. And now I have a new job, starting on July 1! With so much change crammed into one month, what's there to be nervous about?!
(In completely unrelated news, one of my eyelids has grown a mind of its own.)
My kids ask me all the time, "Daddy, what's your favorite _________?"
It's one of my least favorite kinds of questions. Why? Because, simply put, I don't ever think about favorites. I could name a million things that I like very much, but which ones are my favorites? I don't know. Should I? Why do I need favorites? Isn't it enough to know that I like a thing? Why do I need to pause and compare it to every other thing of its type that I've ever experienced and decide
I have two awesome parents. I've looked up to both of them my whole life.
So how do I tell my dad he's being a jerk about something that doesn't directly affect me?
Backstory: My dad is in his mid 70's. He has three brothers, one of whom is his twin. My dad and his twin brother could not be more different. This brother flunked out of school, went into the Army, and was sent to Vietnam. He saw a lot of horrible stuff there, and has major PTSD -- listens to CDs of artillery
So, my son and I decide to take a quick trip up to our cabin to drop off some things, and on the way in the door I glance up and spot a bat. Stupidly, I grabbed a broom and went to shoo it away. Well! There were at least half a dozen bats, and they went everywhere. One of them attached itself to my hip, and as I impulsively swept it off with my hand, I got scratched.
What was to be a fun evening with the boy turned into a three hour trip to the ER, two rabies
In my April blog, I mentioned that my wife and I were preparing to relocate, get new jobs, etc. Well, the relocation bit is about to begin. We listed our house for sale three weeks ago, and just this morning approved an offer.
I'm never quite ready for these things, and although there are so many great times ahead, it's hard to let go of a home without fixating on the past and the might-have-beens. Our nearly-ten-year-old daughter was two years old when we moved in, and our six-year-old