Contest Over

The short story contest is closed and the results will be posted tomorrow at noon (if I read correctly). Winning or placing would be nice, but the contest already gave me a primer--a relit pilot light. I had another idea last night that I plan to work on. Part of my writer's block is an over exacting self editor--every idea had to be a gold mine. Basically I need to dare to suck. Besides, how many times have we all surprised ourselves with something wonderful out of nothing?

Before I forget, I have to tell you what my two-year-old did this morning. If you are a guy that gets squeamish over sentiment, then click away.

Emmett yelled this morning for his mother at 6:30, which in parent-time is the equivalent of teenage noon. I was greeted with bitter disappointment. "Noooo. I want mama!"

I approached him like a hunter to a felled beast, unsure of the mortality of the wound. He rolled away from me and attempted to shake loose from a blanket that had properly entwined his legs together. With his back to me he pointed to the tangle and demanded, "OFF!!"

I smiled and whisked the blanket away like a magician to a tablecloth. I bent over and kissed him of the soft velvety skin stretched between the neck and shoulders. He cocked his head to deny my access and giggled. When I pulled away he straightened out and said with a half laugh, "Again!" So I did, but this time he let me in, so I gave him a daddy zerbit.

When I was finished, I stood up and waited. Without turning around, he pointed to his ear and said, "Kiss my ear." And I did. That seemed to satisfy him.

That was a Hallmark moment people, the kind that memories are made of, a cinderblock in the foundation of parenthood. Take note all you dads that don't value time spent with your kids. These small little moments mean more than a brand new Porche for graduation, although some teenagers would disagree--as in all of them.

I'm volunteering at my older son's school today. I read a story and supervise a craft. The kids get in a circle afterwards, and the teacher directs a synchronized thank you, which is too cute for words.

Then I go to work and deal with the shithead. Such is life.

Have a good weekend my friends. Live long and prosper, be excellent to one another, and may the force be with you--and not necessarily in that order.

Peace out.