100th Post

Well, here we are--100 moments into the life of a 21st century Dad. Since this blog began I've been hired to write part of a book, started a radio show with a republican, had my kitchen remodeled, and lost 5 pounds. All in all, not a bad start.

My Son has grown 1.4 inches in these 100 posts and now keeps setting off my instinctual alarm bells because I catch a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye and think some dude's walked into the house.

My daughter has joined Superhero High School and gained a laconic boyfriend who is exceedingly polite and apparently plays guitar better than I do.

My niece has moved in to the room we built for her in the basement and added organic flax seed and some kind of soft drink that is actually alive to our repertoire of victuals.

My attorney has entered into her third year and is undergoing the kind of unrelenting thankless grind you hear about sometimes in the same news story that ends with " . . . still don't know where she got the gun."

Only my gay dog hasn't changed. He still waits, poised on the edge of the couch, for someone to go scrounging around under the furniture for the remote, at which point he will strike without warning--and hump them into oblivion, tongue lolling out the side of his snout, big stupid frat boy grin on his face.

December will bring you four great Christmas posts, timeless classics of American family values that will leave you contemplating out-dopting your children or perhaps having yourself neutered. I promise.

Thanks for reading, for a writer, knowing people are digging your work can mean the difference between a single and a triple martini lunch. I genuflect honorably in your general direction.