Coming to terms with a silent, dog-less house

It’s a quiet house. An empty house. You don’t hear the rat-a-tat-tat of toenails on the hardwood floors. Or feel hot breath on your kneecaps at dinner. There’s no need for spastic, acrobatic leaps when you turn around at the fridge, realizing an instant too late there’s a dog sitting at your feet. She would scramble out of the way when she saw I was about to topple on her.

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Father camera units and the great preschool graduation debacle

I do declare … a kindergartner. That’s what my daughter is now. She graduated from Memorial Presbyterian Day School, a wonderful place where she learned amazing things, including how to turn washable paints into permanent ink stains. It was a terrific little ceremony the other night, filled with merriment, songs by children (some whose voices could carve names into glass) and diplomas for little tikes in blue caps and flowing gowns. Precious.

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Now for some “tips” on surviving a vacation to Orlando

I have met mayhem, and it is called Orlando over Memorial Day weekend. That’s when all the people come out. When the heat turns up. When even ice cream is hot. When the only way to move about a theme park is to body surf atop the crowds. When the roads are lined with people from Wisconsin and Kansas who have forgotten their cars came pre-installed with gas pedals. (They just stop in the middle of four-lane highways!) I took the family to Orlando where we stayed in a resort, visited the Magic Kingdom and drank so much chlorinated pool water that our insides are bleached white. As with all my trips, I learned a lot. So I figured I would share some tips on how to make it back alive. Heed my advice:

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