We lost a great dad this week. His name was Steve Caffey. When I first saw Steve, probably at Christmas in 1992, I thought, “Wow, that guy needs to wash his hands.” Then I learned he was a mechanic, and realized he probably had washed them more times that day than I would wash mine… (read more)
The only customer in the shop, I stood waiting for the nice lady behind the counter to fill my meager order: one white creme-filled donut and two glazed cinnamon twists. Behind me, the donut shop’s front door swung open with a resounding “ding” and in stepped a graying man, sharply dressed, with two small children… (read more)
In the nearly 11 years we were married before you became a mother, I simply knew you as Shannon, and Mother’s Day was a time to buy my mom a card and maybe call her. When you and I met, we hit it off quickly, and got married sooner than many thought was advisable —… (read more)
We have stopped using the TV at our house on weeknights. Well, let me back up a step. We do not turn on the television before our son goes to bed. Baby steps, people. This is part of our effort to hit our son’s attention deficit disorder (ADD) from the environmental angle. Included in that… (read more)
The last time I mentioned dribbling, it was because my baby son’s salivary control was practically non-existent. Actually, I don’t think I was blogging yet at that point, so I probably didn’t mention it. Consider yourself fortunate. Now, it’s all about repeatedly bouncing a basketball, slobber not included. Benjamin is eight years old for about… (read more)