Good Morning

To my son Tommy,

"I'm coming down!" you yelled seemingly to everyone in the house as if your decision was made and there was no changing. You probably have been up for the past half hour, deciding if it was an appropriate time to be awake. It has been raining in Baltimore the past day or two, so there was no sunshine through the window to convince you that the morning had fully arrived.

"You downstairs or up?" you asked, again seemingly to everyone in the house though I knew it was directed at your mom. I sleep in one place, the bed, but your mom, depending on how she is doing physically with her medical and Crohn's stuff, can be found in the bed or on the couch. Plus who wants to spend morning snuggle time with an old fat man when a mommy is available.

"Good morning!" you said as you went down the stairs and caught first glimpse of your mom. The words came out in a way that you can hear the smile and joy in your heart. It is the same way you say it ninety nine times out of one hundred. Thus you begin the new day anew, ready to tackle the world, right after a quick hug and snuggle session with your mom because you have priorities.

I hope you never lose that joy for waking up. Hold on to it as best you can and recapture it as often as you can. For soon, you will be tempted to despise and dread the morning as this world takes hold of you and turns you cynical and cold. If you even decide to utilize the adjective "good" for your morning, it usually will be filled with sarcasm and irony. Instead any A.M. greeting will be shortened to "mornin" at best, but more likely "ugh" or "hrmph" or something much less congenial. Bah, don't listen to me...I am just a jaded cynical old fat guy who didn't get any snuggles this morning.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Powerless? Not Hardly!

To my son Tommy,

When the world gets you down, and your case of Mondays goes well into Tuesday, and you think the world is out to get you, remember one thing...it is. The world is probably out to get you. 

Luckily, you were born with special powers, abilities going well beyond the realm of magical. You were born with the ability to smile, and to laugh, and to cry, and to persevere, and to be compassionate, and to dream, and to forgive, and most importantly to love. Now go choose which of these superpowers you will utilize to dig yourself out of whatever hole or darkness you think is insurmountable. 

If all fails, go find Grandpa Leo. He has those same powers and will find you some good protective wear to shield you from life.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Scary Dancer

To my son Tommy,

I am going out on a limb with a prediction here. I predict you will not seduce your significant other with your suave dance moves. But you may just win over your significant other with your dancing if they aren't easily embarrassed and have a good sense of humor.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Honestly Autism Day

To my son Tommy,

The whole family volunteered at Honestly Autism Day. It is a great day sponsored by the Autism Society (I think they are technically the Chesapeake chapter but I usually just say Baltimore) filled with information and presentations and all types of stuff. Your Aunt Debbie coordinates the majority of the event and really puts together a grand show. Last year I watched you all kids, so everyone else could volunteer, but this year I offered my tech expertise making sure some of the "breakout" rooms were all set with projectors and speakers and dealing with your basic computer geek type of problems.

That meant we all got rooms at the hotel where it was being held and the family tagged teamed the child care. You loved it because it meant some time at the hotel pool. Unfortunately the water was still pretty cold, even for a supposedly heated pool, and you were shivering and your lip was quivering and turning blue. Despite protests from you, I decided for your health that the swimming would be cut short. Perhaps if you were a swimmer, perhaps if you could go under water and get your whole body used to the water, it would have been a different story. I think this summer full swim lessons are a must.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

pop-pop volunteering as the photographer. Sure he got pictures of the whole family but I snapped a few quick ones when I had to pull out my iPad to help a presenter get some files for their presentation. Here they are.

Bwama working the parking validation while Aunt Na and Josh take a break from their other volunteer duties.

Emma hides as. Uncle Raymond is surprised to be working registration and Uncle Hyun working diligently on a sign.

Uncle Hyun putting his neatness and his hand eye coordination to good use.

Aunt Karen showing off a big smile in what was a rare lull in all the activity (as you can tell by Emma being the typical bored teenager)

Tears Again

To my son Tommy,

Another morning full of tears and fighting. Your mother had to run to the grocery in the morning and you wanted to go with her. Well that wasn't happening, there was no time. When she finally left out the door, your whining changed to an all out meltdown with screaming. You got sent to your room to calm down and think about things until you were ready to eat breakfast calmly.

Man I remember those days. I remember being sent to my room and obliging in a huff. I remember thinking how unfair it was. I remember being upset with the obvious abuse of power by my parents. It was probably only today that I realized that parenting tactic is hard on all involved.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Dental Tears

To my son Tommy,

Many kids cry and whine and fight over going to the dentist. Not many kids shed tears because they can't go to the dentist RIGHT NOW! Funny enough that is exactly what happened this morning.

We try (or should I say your Mom mostly) to warn and prepare you for any new event. When we bring you to the doctors, we alert you if you are due some booster shots and we prepare you for what the doctor will do. When we recently brought you to the eye doctor, again we prepped you and you were all set. But a major side effect of preparing you is it creates an excitement, a buzz if you will, around the event. You get yourself all psyched up and somewhere in my mind I picture you as Linguini from the movie Ratatouille saying "You with me? So, LETS DO THIS THING!!" The problem is your concept of time, and your eagerness, and the dental office insisting on appointments, well none of this mix. Which is why we had the flood of tears this morning.

There are so many things in this world worth shedding a tear over, some of them beautiful, many of them tragic... but not getting to go to the dentist first thing in the morning, well that just ain't one of them.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Other Parent Bloggers

To my son Tommy,

One of my great pleasures of starting this blog to you is finding many fascinating dads and moms who have just as much dedication and love for their children. Perhaps they express it in different ways, but they are there. They are trying to do the best they can. They are engaged, and in the end that is what parenting is about.

How do they express themselves? Well one of the most interesting expressions of love has to come from the Lunch Box Dad. He might be the sole reason I long for you to eat a greater variety of foods. Nearly everyday he takes the time to transform a normal lunch in to something magical for his kids. Not that I would even come close to Beau in creativity (as you can see by the picture above he is pretty darn good at fun lunches), but with the detailed instructions from his site, I could probably fake it.

I think we need a return to trying new foods with focused effort. You and I have been butting heads lately, so adding some new food pressure is probably just the thing to do. (Can you hear my sarcasm?) Oh just please start eating new foods so your old man can try (and doubtfully be completely successful at) doing fun lunches like Olaf!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

P.S. Beau Coffron the www.lunchboxdad.com allowed me to borrow his Olaf picture for this post. Check him out sometime for some more amazing ideas.

Future Hacker in the Making?

To my son Tommy,

Today, as I volunteered at your school working on the computers, I helped make sure that there is in place a decent web filtering system. The old one was obsolete and frankly didn't block much. Now we have a good blocking program that protects the students but hopefully won't piss off the teachers as they try to get to whatever sites they need or usually use.

I wonder though, as you grow and advance through the grade levels at St Agnes, if you will try to use my knowledge to your advantage. I don't have to worry so much right now I suppose, you being in pre-k that is, but what happens when you get older? If I continue to volunteer my efforts with the tech committee, will you be tempted to grill me for information on how to bypass the OpenDNS web filter or search for passwords to admin users and wifi? Perhaps we won't even have to play a cat and mouse game because I will have taught you too much about computers already and my student will have become my master. 

I have been slowly setting the groundwork for coding and logic and computer aptitude, in ways you wouldn't even think have anything to do with the technical world. When I teach you about organizing and procedure and priorities, I tend to do so from a computer geek state of mind. The way I explain, or have you explain, as we do things is pretty much the same as documenting your code. Half of coding and most all of computers is organization and procedure and technique. In another year or two I will probably start you on a daddy dev course being made and tried by another dad blogger friend of mine. But this course, and your father's access as a volunteer, and your natural curiosity, and your natural intellect, could lead to problems with a grade school hacker. Should be interesting in the future.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

If You Say That One More Time

To my son Tommy,

You didn't have the conviction when you tried the words. Your words were like a toe dipping into an ocean early in the beach going season. I am not even sure where you heard these words, as they are not in my usual repertoire of threats or retorts to anyone, much less you. But as we sat there and argued about when you would start eating your breakfast, as we sat there staring at the turned off tv, as we sat there contemplating the fact that your efforts to tell on me to your mom had no success, as we sat there staring at the usual oatmeal and I said, yet again in the calmest voice I could still muster, "Eat your breakfast"...you retorted with a hint of venom, "If you say that one more time..." We didn't get to the threat part. You jumped in fear as I bolted from my seat. I am not much for corporal punishment, or at least haven't found the need for it yet, and your transgression today didn't warrant me rethinking my position, but I suppose to see three hundred pounds jump up so quickly would make most anyone fear a change of heart. Instead, you almost lost every toy I could reach today as you "tested the waters", though that may have been an empty threat had you thought to call my bluff. Your mother, coming down from her shower and perturbed by the both of us, stopped the loss of toys and the tears.

Growing up is difficult. Being a strong willed stubborn child like your father was when he was young, that is difficult. Finding out other people's tactics, and words, and threats, don't work for you, that is difficult. Tattle telling on your father who is trying to make you eat your breakfast to your mother who agrees with your father and realizing you are out on that limb alone, that is difficult. Eating your breakfast when you are asked, that is easy! Your choice.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Hoppy Easter

To my son Tommy,

Today, you put on a set of bunny ears and hopped all around the house hiding the prizes you just received in your basket. Then you stopped, sniffed in the air, twitched your nose like a bunny twitching his whiskers, and said, "I smell carrots." as you hopped off to the kitchen. Your mother and I came to the conclusion that we don't take enough video. You are a funny kid and you make us laugh all the time. Maybe we should get some hidden cameras recording twenty four seven just so we don't miss anything. Happy (or as you kept saying Hoppy) Easter!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Denial and Struggle

To my son Tommy,

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

On this Good Friday, my thoughts are actually drawn to events before the crucifixion. My thoughts are drawn to Peter and his three denials before the cock crowed after Jesus was taken. I think about all my own denials in life.

In this day and age, filled with memes about magical Jewish carpenter zombies meant to ridicule our belief as ludicrous, it is quite easy to deny Him. Atheist are pounding at the door screaming that anyone who believes must stop and relating religion to unicorns and fairy tales.

Your old man has read most every major book from most every major religion and many of the minor ones as well. I have studied philosophy, chemistry, theology, physics, teleology, biology, psychology, anthropology, and asked myself some very important questions, albeit to satisfy my own curiosities and unfortunately not for school credit. I can help you navigate through Aristotle's great watchmaker analogy to Pascal's wager to the big bang theory to the inability to reconcile general relativity with quantum mechanics. I have studied and practiced deductive, reductive, and inductive reasoning and I know each of their limitations. I also know the limitations of the human mind and ego and the traps set by both. I have argued both for and against religion and asked my questions with both closed and open mind depending on what point of the era of Leo you look at.

The funny thing, is for all the questions I have asked and all the arguments I have had with myself and others, I keep coming back to one truth...I believe.  I struggle, I question, I still believe. I am no good at apologetics and I often find some twisted truth in those memes and arguments that send me down a rabbit hole of study and questioning but I come out the other side and I still believe.

One fallacy that some have about people in our religion, or any religion for that matter, is that they just accept and live in perfect harmony with all their tenets of faith. Being a part of a Church that is filled with sinners and humans and imperfect beings, I know this not to be true. Just because you believe doesn't mean you don't struggle. I struggle with various Church policy and the differences that separate people who in the big picture hold to the same major belief. I struggle with things that I am supposed to have faith are true from revelations past. I struggle with my own ego and my own need to know everything and be right in my mind. I struggle with doing the right thing that I know I should do because my own pride and sense of justice and revenge often gets in the way.

One day in the future, you will have all these questions too. You will rebel and fight everything you have been taught. You will think the ways of your elders antiquated and based in old thinking. And it won't just be with religion. You will disregard even the basic lessons like why you should eat your vegetables. You will not learn from the mistakes of your old man with regards to religion, and sex, and drugs, and all sorts of stuff that you will have to struggle with on your own. And for all my studying and learning and experience, you will still have to come to your own conclusions.

I have denied Him before. I hope not deny Him again. It all boils down to I struggle, I question, I believe, and I pray and I pray and I pray. I hope you will believe too, my son. I will be there to help guide you as best as I can and I will pray that you to will return from each and every rabbit hole you go down.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

A Nice Warm Blanket

To my son Tommy,

If you get up early , you come jump in bed with daddy and mommy. The way you jump in, and sink into the safety of our family, reminds me of the sleep piles from "Where The Wild Things Are". 

Now last night, in what hopefully is winter's last breath, it snowed and dropped down to twenty degrees. We had the heat off in the house so things were a bit chilly by morning time. When you jumped in the little nest in between the legs of your mom and I, your mother shared some of her blanket to keep you warm. A little bit later you switched to Daddy's blanket, I assume because you found my blanket a bit warmer.

Here is a secret that is mostly true for any mommy-daddy couples...the daddy's blanket is usually warmer! But when choosing between two options, you have to ask yourself how the one option got better. You may find out, like daddy's blanket's warmth, that the means to achieve this end really stinks. Figuratively or, in the case of the blanket, quite literally.

On a side note, I am back on a diet that funny enough had a healthy serving of beans in yesterday's lunch menu. Sorry.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

J is for ...

To my son Tommy,

During our weekend getaway, your Uncle Chris and I were watching you and your cousin Ryan while the rest of the crew went out for some bonding time. Somehow the conversation turned to Easter and I think you chimed in that you weren't wearing a shirt for Easter. Your uncle and I looked at each other because we had no idea what you were talking about and were sure your mother had a different shirt (or at least any shirt) planned for your Sunday outfit. But, being the wise ass I am, I suggested that if you decide to go that route that you should paint a "J" on your chest and find four friends for the other four "E,S,U,S" I suggested the five of you could add some face paint and sit in the front row and hoot and holler like a football fan on game day. A laugh came out as I wondered how some of the more serious people at church would deal with this enthusiasm. Anyways, it was a passing sarcastic comment between two fathers playing babysitter.

Flash forward to my first day of work after the vacation and I receive a phone call from a very distraught five year old. He is upset that his mother, who knew nothing of the joking comments between her husband and brother-in-law, would not allow him to paint a "J" on his chest. I was in tears laughing as. I recounted the story to your somewhat pissed mother. I soon got the above picture by text message. When I got home the "J" was now for Julia because you were heading over to her house for a play party today. That was okay with me because I think your mom was planning on making me paint on the "ESUS" on my belly for a picture. At least she didn't suggest "ERK" for my joke.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Precision Vacation

To my son Tommy,

One thing in this world that requires one hundred percent focus and precision is the spontaneous weekend getaway. All cylinders have to be firing in exact timing to make a three hour jaunt to the ocean worth going. It is such a dangerous parenting maneuver that can easily slip into the "way more trouble than it is worth" category if you let it.

To accomplish this, things have to be sacrificed. You give up things you normally enjoy with the luxury of weekend time when you stay home. Sleep becomes negotiable and extra curriculars like blogging fall to the way side. You are trying to squeeze every little bit of the experience out of the time you have. We came sliding home just before midnight last night with the feeling of "what a ride" mixed with relief for being home. You, you have Easter break this week so you have some time to recoup. I was back at work bright and early only with the extra work I normally accomplish on the weekend added on top of my normal day. Bah...it was worth it!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Good Stock

To my son Tommy,

I stopped by at High's on the way home. After my quick stop was finished, I jumped into the company vehicle. An older gentleman asked me to roll down my window, obviously noting the company name on the vehicle. I obliged expecting to field questions about ex employees that I knew very little about. I readied with answers like "Sounds familiar" as Sykesville/Eldersburg is that small town where everyone knows everyone and if you don't recognize the name they said they will try to jog your memory with an entire family history until you find a connection.

"Charles A. Klein & Sons, Inc....are they related to Andy Klein?" he inquired as I rolled down the window.

The name threw me a bit as I wasn't expecting my Uncle Andy to come up, but I happily responded, "They are. In fact, Andy is my uncle." I still talk about your Great Uncle Andy in the present because no matter how long it has been, little events like this always pop up to remind me he is with us in our hearts and minds and memories.

The guy evidently had his air condition unit replaced, evidently not too much before Andy passed. He went on and on about how good and how nice my uncle was. I had no intention of stopping him because frankly I agree totally. Near the end of the story, the guy mentioned his unit recently went up, but to his surprise Andy had made sure he had the extended warranty on the unit and ended up saving him a ton. He looked to the heavens and said, "Thank you, Andy!" He thanked me for stopping to chat and I thanked him for the wonderful things he had to say about my uncle. We parted ways with an uncannily simultaneous "God bless" and I drove away filled with memory after memory of my uncle. Never even got the guys name nor did he get mine.

This kind of thing will happen to you as you grow up. People will find out who you are related to and regale you with story after story about them and their interactions. Luckily you come from good people, or as they say good stock, and people recall the good things they did and always seem to have been the better for the experience. You have some big name good hearted families in the Maryland area on both sides of your family tree, but don't be surprised if a story pops up when you visit other states or even other countries. Even if the story is about an ancestor you never had the fortune to meet, smile, nod, and listen intently...because there are no better examples of love that truly touches someone's heart.

I miss my Uncle Andy and I am damn glad that people still stop me to tell me how great of a person he was, as if I didn't already know.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

What Goes In

To my son Tommy,

You come from a long line of plumbers. Between that and your mom's Crohn's Disease, you will probably be comfortable discussing things that others see as taboo to talk about. Yep you will be able to talk about poop and all of its accoutrement. It is a smelly nasty yucky fact of life that affects even the most cultured and refined. They just don't talk about it and like to act like it doesn't exist. We, as a rule, don't shun what is probably the most universal of topics and the great equalizer. Instead, much to other people's embarrassment, we often discuss it openly and honestly. And, from recent experience, I am here to remind you that what goes in, must come out.

Your mom and I ate dinner Monday night. You luckily ate something else a little bit earlier. About twenty minutes after eating my dinner, I realized something didn't agree with me. My stomach was doing twists and turns and decided to wrench and cramp in the worst way. I could only imagine that this is what your mom experiences with some of her symptoms. I really hope not because this was horrible. Your mother who ate the same dinner didn't show any signs...yet. She was probably thinking I was a wimp and that she deals with this type of pain day in and day out. But later that night she was on my side saying something was wrong. I half considered going to the ER for some stomach pumping for both of us, but decided to just tough it out. By the morning, after an almost completely sleepless night, my stomach had normalized enough to get you to school and me to work.

By noon yesterday, I was feeling almost myself, which was a good thing because I was informed a dinner meeting for work had been moved to that night. The problem with getting through the stomach pain, is there is still another shoe to drop. Like I said before, what goes in....

So the work dinner was uneventful, even though I was worried that the next stage would happen sooner rather than later. In fact dinner was very enjoyable, probably because I hadn't ate anything all day because of my gut. When I came home, I was dead tired but I did sit down to start to write a letter to you. Then the rumble started. Let's just say the letter got delayed and the topic got changed.

I am a big believer on experiencing most every thing life has to offer or throw at you. Bad, good, weird, normal...bring it on. But if there was ever one thing that I wish you wouldn't ever have to endure, it is the quite literal gut wrenching experiences like I had the past couple days. I think you could live your entire life without going through something like that and miss nothing. The only thing it might do is give you more compassion for your mom and your uncle and your great aunt and their medical plight. God forbid you genetically inherited Crohn's.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Stereotypical Dad

To my son Tommy,

People have stereotypes. There are stereotypes for daddies and mommies, for men and women, for people who are straight and gay, for black and white, for rich and poor, for city folk and country folk, and for every classification in between. This is just a fact of life, wrong or right, stereotypes exist.

A dad is supposed to be strong and fearless. A dad is supposed to mow the lawn. A dad is supposed to know cars and love football. A dad is supposed to sit around drinking cheap beer and saying "pull my finger". A dad is supposed to be a bumbling idiot who relies purely on his wife to accomplish everything while maintaining a sense of superiority based in a sexist attitude. All of these stereotypes are bullshit, even if some of them fit, but they still exist.

Your mother and I buck most of these stereotypes and yet play to some of the others. I have been known to sarcastically mock these stereotypes by playing to them. I have been known to use these stereotypes to my advantage to get out of work. I have been known to challenge the stereotypes to get out of work. I have been known to call out stereotypical thinking and challenge others to see past the stereotype. I have been known to surprise people who have predetermined opinions on who I am supposed to be. I have been known to let someone else maintain their opinion because I have a predetermined opinion that they are not smart enough to handle the truth.

When dealing with stereotypes, there are a couple rules to remember.

• A stereotype is what someone else thinks of you. What other people think of you is not your business. If they want to believe you are some pocket protector wearing super nerd because you have good grades and like computers, they are going to believe it...or at least at first. Your actions and your personality might convince them otherwise, but chances are they will consider you an exception to their stereotype rule. 
• Changing a stereotype is an uphill battle. If you decide you want to redefine a stereotype, you are in for a challenge. You can change people's misconceptions about you, but to change them for a whole group? You will need to enlist a bunch of like minded people. You will have to get them to actively change that stereotype. Then, just when you think you are starting to make headway, some guy, like me, will make a sarcastic joke meant to poke fun at some bs stereotype, and someone else will point to the joke as to proof that the stereotype is true. Then you are set back to the beginning.
• Distancing yourself from the stereotype will get you nowhere. Take my pocket protecting protagonist from earlier. If he stops hanging out with the other "geeks" and gets contacts and stops putting pens in his shirt pocket, people will still think he is a "geek". Mocking and chastising your group to be cool, won't do much either.
• Seed the change. Change will happen slowly, if at all. You need to plant the seeds of change. You need to gently remind people that they are playing to a stereotype. If you must call out an egregious error, don't do so publicly, unless your plan is to alienate just about everybody in your hopes that people don't have that stereotype about you. There is a power in a gentle private correction that actually has a chance of making change.
• A stereotype should not and will not define you. Don't let it. You decide who you are and when a stereotype fits and doesn't fit and when you decide to change. Don't spend your time fighting what other people think. Spend your time defining what you think, especially of yourself.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Fever Night

To my son Tommy,

You had a fever last night. Evidently this fever gave you tons of nightmares. You were getting up every thirty minutes until your mom decided to go sleep in your bed. Add to that a touch of the runs for you, and it made for a restless night for all and a very blah Sunday which nothing will be accomplished. The good thing is you seem in better health today. You and I had a Karate Kid marathon day, while your mom stayed upstairs and got some well deserved snooze time. Here is to hoping that tonight goes easier for all of us.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Laugh Of The Day

To my son Tommy,

"Daddy? Can you fix my goggles?" you ask as you struggle to make these frog goggles look like anything but a rat's nest.

"Sure," as I unwrap the rubber strap from the center of the goggles and hand them back, "Why do you need goggles today anyway?"

"Because today I am your co-pilot!" you exclaim.

You can be my co-pilot any day of the year and twice on Saturdays.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Bread Cleavage

To my son Tommy,

Before I had you, back when I knew everything about raising a child, I swore that any child of mine would eat the crusts of the bread. I would not pamper my kids with crustless sandwiches. Of course that was before. That was before we went through the period where we thought you might be on baby food the rest of your life. That was before we fought every fight to get you to try just about anything. That is before I realized you were ten times as stubborn as your old man. That is before I was elated that we got you to eat cheese sandwiches and felt only fleeting guilt by compromising my moral certainty of my youth on the issue of cutting off the crusts.

When you start out being a dad, you never know what is going to be the biggest concern in your day to day life. Sure there are the usual standards of health and wellness and education and safety and such, but I am talking about the day to day nitty gritty specifics. Yes! I am talking about bread cleavage!

Who knew that the divot in the top of the bread loaf would cause me such angst? Normally we buy the sandwich style sliced bread, but recently at one of those wholesale clubs we bought the King style of bread. Evidently, when they bake this bread, they must put a g-string over the bread pan to give it that nice top wedgie. That is the only explanation I can think of. Look at that picture! How?

If you were a crust eater, like your mom and I, this wouldn't matter. But when I go to take off the crust, which ruins the sandwich for you if even the littlest bit is left, four straight slices takes off nearly half the sandwich! I had to resort to the triangle cut out around the indentation. It may not sound like much but these are the concerns and lessons you learn as a parent. Even though it really isn't much of a problem, it is still a small annoyance that I can avoid later. Maybe I should break out the big cookie cutters again and start shaping your sandwiches. Or maybe, some day, you will just learn to eat the darn crust. Until then, I will be more picky on my bread buys. Minimal cleavage in every loaf!

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

No Glasses Needed

To my son Tommy,

Today, we took you to the opthamologist, aka the eye doc. You had failed the vision check with your pediatrician for two years running, so that triggered the trip to the specialist. The first year, your four year old well child visit, they let you slide because you just might not have the patience for the test or something like that can skew the results. But second year, the five year old well child visit, is too much to ignore.

Your mom and I watched you do fine with the letters sized at 20/80 vision but then when they jumped it down to to 20/50 we saw some problems. To your mom and I, it seemed you were destined for coke bottle thickness glasses and we were feeling that parental guilt that we should have had you checked way before this. 

Turns out, according to the doctor, the one with the medical degree, that your 20/50 vision with the slightest possible stigmatism in one eye, isn't that bad. She said the slight prescription she could prescribe wouldn't do much and that even then your vision won't be 20/20. From my point of view, it didn't really make sense. Why can't we get you to 20/20 with glasses? How can 20/50 not be bad? What happens when the school tests you and you fail again, do we just explain that the vision isn't that bad? But, again, I am not the one with the medical degree, so we will have to have faith in the docs education and experience. The funny thing is you are so fair skinned and toe headed that the doctor thought you might have a touch of albino in you. She had to check the pigment in the back of your eye just to make sure. I guess we better start getting you some sun!

Anyways, I hate to disappoint you but no glasses yet. And I do believe you are disappointed. I think you were excited about the prospect of being just like mommy and daddy. Oh well you will just have to keep dressing up in non prescription glasses. Trust me, you aren't missing out and real glasses aren't as exciting as you think.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Responsibility Leads To Good Behavior

To my son Tommy,

On our Saturday adventures, you acquired yet another stuffed animal, a bird which you named Mr. Bubbles. You are showing quite the affinity for this one, and, like any good father, I am using that to my advantage.

One trick I learned (probably because my father used to pull it on me) is if you give a child responsibility over another, his behavior gets better. Simply by making him accountable for the care and education of another, the child ups his game immediately. If you decide to give this power to your son over another human being, like classmates or a kid brother, the potential for disaster is high. The kid can turn into a bossy little bully who when unsuccessful at controlling his charges turns into a whiny tattletale. However, if that object of responsibility is a stuffed animal, the disaster potential dissipates. Stuffed animals only resist as much as the kid wants them to and never more than the kid can control. They make great pupils and charges in this way. I did exactly this with Mr. Bubbles and you.

When I served you breakfast this morning, you were reluctant and whiny. Instead of powering through and imposing my will on you, I asked that you show Mr. Bubbles how we do breakfast. You looked at me confused. I explained that this is the first breakfast that Mr. Bubbles has been invited to and he needs to know what is expected and how we do things. Then I left the room.

I came back and you had wrapped Mr. Bubbles in a blanket (just like I normally wrap you to eat your cereal) and pulled up a chair for him at your breakfast table. You were showing him how you fed yourself and occasionally offered him a bite. You were also explaining what else we would have to do this morning. I explained to you and Mr. Bubbles that I was going to take a quick shower and when I came back we were going to brush our teeth or beak as the case may be. After my shower, I came down and I snapped the picture while you were making sure the bathroom had an extra rinse cup for him so we could all brush our teeth together.

I guess, technically, this is pure manipulation and trickery to get you to do what you should be doing. But you were going to do what had to be done no matter, so the alternative was to fight about it all morning. Remember, if you need someone to do something, sometimes a frontal assault is not the best way. Instead, give them some responsibility and let them surprise you. Even when they know it is make believe, they are eager to teach someone else how to behave, and in the process do exactly what you want them to do in the first place. Now if that only worked with politicians...

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Five Rules For Pranking

To my son Tommy,

Today is April 1st, also known as April Fool's day. Jokes and pranks and all out falsehoods abound. Be aware and be careful. Assume everything to be a prank and approach each situation suspiciously. Don't bother reading the news today, especially the internet. Even the last vestiges of reputable news outlets cannot be trusted on this day. Of course with the internet, many have taken this approach year round. What was once a day long gullibility test, for them has extend to a 24/7 way of living. Sadly, I have for the most part given up the battle of trying to inform the masses when they are fooled. If they want to believe that if you share that picture that someone is going to send you a portion of their lotto winnings, or believe that a Nigerian prince will pay them a portion of their fortune after you send them five hundred bucks, or believe that taurine actually means bull piss, or any of the host of internet lies that abound, they are on their own. In fact I have resorted to mockingly agreeing with them and fostering their belief that it is true. I believe that comes from our Irish heritage, which gives us the ability to make even the most utterly nonsensical sound credible.

If you decide to partake in the antics of April Fool's day, follow these rules.

• Do not be cruel. Keep it harmless on both a physical and an emotional level. A whip cream pie in the face...April Fool's. A Louisville slugger to the face...assault. Telling someone that sugar water makes a good insect repellent...April Fool's. Telling someone that their dad is dead...well now you just look like a jerk. There is only a certain amount that "just kidding, April Fool's" can get you out of.
• Make sure everyone can laugh at the end. The objective is fun not to victimize or bully. If someone is really hurt or offended or upset, don't just blow it off and say they don't have a sense of humor. Remember saying sorry sincerely is the first step in rectifying any joke gone awry.
• Be original. Sure some of the classics are always fun, but if you are going to put the effort into it, might as well be a trailblazer. At least put a spin on the classic.
• Fess up. I once convinced a friend that some Spanish curse words were actually words of endearment. He said the words around some Spanish speaking guys and they laughed and I laughed but we all forgot to correct him. Three months later, after actually finding a nice Spanish speaking girl that he could try his newly learned phrases with...well lets just say he wasn't happy with me when he found out what the words really meant.
• Expect retribution. You have to take it as good as you give it. And be careful because some do not follow these rules.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo