Sunday, June 15, 2008
Sleep in. Kiss the girls. Slurp coffee. Play with Hope. Take Lulu for a bike ride. Don't die. Read enough of the New York Times to feel smug for the day. Eat blueberry pancakes. Play with Hopesy. Get presents. Like 'em. Read card. Stand in awe that Hope has become a poetry prodigy.
Read Hope one of my presents, my favorite book as a child, "How Tom Beat Captain Najork and His Hired Sportsmen." Go back to bed.
Feed Hope strange brown mush with spoon. Consider it a triumph that 20 percent goes in her mouth. Relax. Lay on couch. Put on funny hat. Take it off. Kiss the girls. Eat leftover steak, cheese and pickles.
Go to zoo. Push Hope. Miss the chimpanzees. Think that anteaters sure look funny. Sit on grass. Play with Hope. That's the best part. Go home. Eat coffee ice cream. Play Frisbee with dog.
Call my Dad. Get more presents. Eat more pancakes for dinner.
Count blessings on near-perfect Fathers Day.