Day off. Cats, cradles, dead horses.


"Well, yes, I suppose you could use a hammer for that too, son."

 While I recognize my role as teacher and caretaker, as a Dad, I also take the role of "most fun dude" very seriously. Sometimes though, I have a hard time with the lines. Discipline. Consistency. When to teach. When to let things go. Limits. Boundaries. But no matter what lines I have chosen, they are mine to tow. All that I give is out of love, and I expect no returns. It is all I need, to see them becoming compassionate, confident, happy little people.

Give it all away. That is how we do it.

You will have to forgive my whole "Tell it on the mountain" tone here. It's really not my intention. It's just that I have found this to be a much better place to let things funnel out, rather than in heavy traffic, while trying to explain four letter expletives to an inquisitive 5 year old. To say that I have been frustrated is a gross understatement. So I sit and type, and backspace, and type some more.
Enter kids with hammers. Instantly, I am reminded (yes, again) sometimes smashing things into oblivion really is the answer.

Hammers are good for sooo many things, it's something I learned as a kid. Nothing like pulverizing inanimate objects to teach a life lesson I say!

"How many times have we fixed this thing, with this same hammer?"
"Hundreds probably."
"What the hell did it even do in the first place?"
"The nails don't even hold it together anymore."
"It really serves no purpose other than constantly needing repair."
"Well, what do we do with it?"
"Smash that fucker to bits."
 "Don't tell your mother I said fucker."
 "Can we build a new one?"
 "Not much sense in building a new one, unless you do it right."
 "Can we use the hammer?"
 "You do know we have more than one tool, right?"

When you are a Dad, you need lots of tools.


Bird and Cleaver