My family firmly believes that I am a happier person when I am writing and they are probably right. There, I said it. My 15 year-old nephew, Thomas, was one of the family members who would give me gentle encouragement in ways that only a six foot some-odd inch basketball player can subtly muster, which one night included a bluntly put if completely unsolicited, "Do you know what I think you should start doing again? BLOGGING."
This comment almost gave
my niece apoplexy, until she realized that Thomas had not just told me that I
needed to start JOGGING, and was not, in fact, commenting on my sorry physical
shape, but rather growing weary of never seeing his name and/or image grace the
pages of my blog.
Consequently, I have been
reminded that I like to write, perhaps I even need to write, hence my recent
predilection for prose, which may most accurately be described as my WAAAAAH,
WAAAAAH, WAAAAAH period. Again, insert the wisdom of a 15 year-old, who instead
of congratulating me on my triumphant return, asked the following question.
Isn't your blog called
OUR butterfly moments and not MY butterfly moments? Enough about you. What
And my response to this
So, we now return you to
our regularly scheduled programming....
Stay tuned tomorrow for
more of David's madcap misadventures and an account from my hairdresser that the
“shiners" (her polite term for gray hair) have recently been multiplying
exponentially at my temples.