Gone fishing

So, after a year with the paper, I was finally able to take a little time off. I've spent some hours with my kids, read a few books, slept more than I thought possible for me to sleep, watched half a dozen movies and struggled through the beginnings of another diet and yet another novel. I don't think I can stop with either. Just as I'm always going to be fighting with my waistline, it is for me to fidget over words.

Along the way to the end of this week, I brought my son along for one of my Cancer man gigs. He groaned about going, would have preferred to sit at the house and goof off, but I wanted to explain to him why I'm still doing this, why it's become important to me. It took me decades to have a fair understanding of the mind of my father. I never asked and I had to piece it together slowly in the things he told me. Trying to understand your father is an important step in understanding yourself. I just wanted to maybe give my son some clues to who he might be early on.

I don't know if he got it, but he didn't complain so much the second time we did the errand. He chatted with them. He was as friendly and attentive as a long long grandson. He even managed to delete from his conversation the usual stuff about blowing up aliens or creating deadly weapons for the good of all mankind. We are all very lucky he's not so good at math or science.

Anyway, here's hoping he got something out of it. Now, we just have to wait a decade or two.