Hey Dad,
I’m not a math guy. I don’t do well with fractions, quadratic equations, or pi. I’m OK with counting, but that about does it.
But, here I am writing to you about math and fathering. Definitely, a Familyman first. In fact, I’ve been pondering math all week. It all started as I was tooling down the road listening to the radio.
The smooth voice on the other end explained how he was going to place a marble in a jar for every Saturday he had left of his expected life span.
How are things at your house? Life is pretty good at the Wilson’s. The snow has melted, the kids are healthy, and my wife and I are doing great, but that wasn’t the case a couple of weeks ago.
Marriage is like that. One week everything is fine; the next week you are on the downward hill of the roller coaster of life screaming your lungs out.
Hey Dad,
I just got back from cleaning up a big glob of kid poop off the bathroom floor. (Didn’t your speech teacher tell you to start with an attention grabber?) My wife conveniently left for a meeting, leaving me with our two youngest. One slept; the other played, while I worked in my basement office. That’s when I got the call.
“I went poopy. I went poopy…” Isaac shouted. He was still new at the bathroom thing and occasionally had…uh…problems.
Hey Dad,
Just heard about another dad who got caught in the web of INTERNET pornography (maybe that’s why they call it the world wide web). Man, I hate that! I’m not shocked or appalled…just saddened. I mean, satan knows what kind of bait to use when he goes fishing for men.
I’m sure that dad didn’t anticipate where it would lead. It began with a simple click of the mouse when no one was looking. Afterwards, he begged forgiveness from God and promised himself that it would never happen again. But it did.
