Partly Clogging With a Chance of Mud Pies

Our furnace went out this week. Turns out the reason was my daughter Belle and her friend (both five years old) had chosen to use the furnace vent in the back yard as a mold for their mud pies.

The furnace guy found the problem, came into our house and said, "Um, do you have kids?"

Why yes, we do. And they love to dance:



Like Max from "Where The Wild Things Are," they also like to make mischief. My three-year-old son, Johnny, opened my desk drawer.

"Johnny..." I said. "What are you getting into?"

Johnny said: "Whatever is in there."

This weekend, we had fun with friends at the zoo. John asked, "Daddy, if I went in there, could that tiger eat me?"

"Yes," I said, "and I don't think he'd even have to chew."

John swallowed. "Oh."

Belle appreciated the sentiment. "You are my best daddy ever."

I said, "I am your only daddy ever."

Belle said: "You are my best only daddy ever."

She can be a real sweetheart. For example, I'm writing my second novel and my dream is to get published. Belle said, "Daddy, I love you even if you don't publish your book." How could a parent not melt?

Of course, the next day she said, "Daddy, it would be great if I could have a bigger room." Guess I better get writing.