Friday, July 1, 2011

still under < 1000 %

or a buck short; someone that sees through the master plan.

I had a great Father's Day. It started the day before. I was not allowed to go downstairs. Allowed in the sense, "I'm paying for all this stuff," kind of of "allowed." This is a state of love and trust.

On Father's day at almost 7:10AM I heard the clinking of ceramic plates on each other. "Don't worry," I thought -- even though the girls' capacity for messiness grows logarithmically with their age, it'll be OK.

Sure enough, waiting for Mom and Dad in the way downstairs was a delicious helping of eggs and cheerios. Even the milk was laid out. Around the room were posters (8.5" x 11.0" paper) parameters saying "Dads' HDD (aka Happy Dad's Day)".

Happy Father's Day, Mike. -- it's all your fault.