The (Ongoing) Life of Brian

Have I ever told you about my son? He was born on 7/7/70. One would think that was a lucky date. Maybe. I wasn't so sure. After all, I was a lad of 24 myself and not sure of where I was going in this world. Still, it was an important event and meant I had to be responsible. I now had a son to watch over, to protect, to provide for. It meant I had to grow up.

Before I knew it, he was 3 and getting into everything. Like a puppy, he was all hands and feet and I knew he'd be a handful.
But, in spite of his clumsiness and lack of grace, he managed to survive the scrapes and bumps and bruises of early childhood and make it into his teens. With a love of baseball. Not a great player nor destined for professional sports but a good one and an asset to every team he was on. He could pitch, he could field (any position, mostly shortstop), he eventually learned to run fast enough to even steal a few bases.


Amazingly, he managed to graduate from high school and then, after some fits and starts, even from college (San Diego State) with a degree in accounting.

I suspect that this was because of the influence of the creature on his left whom he knew from 3rd grade but who became his girlfriend in high school.

... whom he had the good sense to eventually marry.
They then produced these little sweethearts...

And now he is learning what he taught me...


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