April 24, 2010
When Mariah and I got married we both were flying by the seat of our pants. Neither of us had anything of value, and working minimal wage jobs didn’t leave much room for material improvement. The few “nice” things we did have were treasured with extreme sensitivity. This is where the lamps come in. Mariah had brought these two white lamps into the marriage that were the remnants of her freshman apartment at University of New Mexico. They were cool, stylish, and a little too hip for me, I cared less about light, I just wanted a TV. Nevertheless, I cared for the lamps as if they were a long lost family heirloom, carefully taking them across the country to Michigan, making sure they survived unhurt. Throughout our marriage I have painstakingly protected the precious lamps from the violence of Downriver Detroit, the destructive power of youth group meetings, and another move across country back to Texas. Only once did I let my guard down, which allowed the anointed one (our first born Clay) a small opportunity to bump into the table it stood on and knock it into a few dozen pieces that ended in a special can at the curb with “Taps” being performed on trash day.
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April 17, 2010
This week I came across some pretty mean people. Its interesting the term “mean” is really relative when you think about it. What you consider is “mean” may just be “normal” to someone else. My daughters used to say “Daddy, you’re being mean” when I would tell them “No, you can’t eat your Halloween Candy for breakfast”, I wasn’t being mean, I just didn’t want to pay for root canals on baby teeth.
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