Father’s Day … and my face on a clay pen cup

“See, dad?” she said. “It’s your stubble. See? It looks just like you.” “Yeah, alright,” I said. “Look at that. Just like me.” It didn’t look like me. It didn’t look ANYTHING like me. Actually, I wish I looked like it. This clay pen holder my daughter made me. A friend down the street … well, her mother has a kiln and some clay. How cool is that? They made Father’s Day presents. Clay cups with faces on them. To hold pens. You’ve never officially been a kid until you’ve made your dad a clay cup with his face on it. The first recorded Father’s Day cup with a face on it dates back to 10,000 B.C. There was also a figure made out of macaroni and a drawing of a race car that read, “Dad drive fast,” with a police car chasing him.

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Four cats, eight kitty litter pans and one night in the hospital

This is the list she gave me. There were two copies of it. Each was hand-written in cursive. One for my brother and one for me. It detailed everything that needed to be done with the four cats and her dog, Lady. It detailed things to be done around the house. All while she had a quick surgical procedure and spent a night in the hospital for observation. “Observation” is code for a nurse telling my mother, “Ms. Thompson, you need to stop walking around the halls and touching things. Please go back to bed and rest so we don’t have to taser you.”

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School’s out: That means no more high-pressure lunch-making

If you’re like me, you’re wondering what to do with this gift. It’s like coming across a crumpled $20 bill on the sidewalk. Think of the possibilities! I’m rich! I can go buy some gold! Only this isn’t money. It’s time. Found time! I’m rich! Mine — and maybe yours — comes courtesy of elementary school letting out for summer. One of my major parental responsibilities — I was removed from math homework when we started getting notes like this: “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, your daughter’s math work has taken a turn for the worse. For instance, 8+8 is not B” — one of my big parental duties was packing my daughter’s lunch each morning.

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