SURVIVING WITHOUT
I walked into my living room with an armload of popcorn. I handed my two daughters a bowl as they poked at their phone screens replying to messages before they had to put them away. Once I started the movie, I didn’t want to be interrupted by dings and glowing faces. They weren’t happy with me, but teenage daughters are rarely happy with any of their parent’s stupid rules. Other than the amount of time spent on their phones, I have few complaints about my kids. In fact, I consider myself a lucky dad.
I gave them a little extra time because my neighbor was still blowing debris off his lawn from yesterday’s storm. We all kept our yard neat in my subdivision, but Bill was a perfectionist. If we had a Yard of the Month competition, the rest of us would never see a trophy. He was a good guy, but we didn’t have much contact other than a friendly wave while mowing our lawns. He and his wife were both retired and seemed content living a quiet life.
I nestled in beside my wife on the couch. After twenty years of marriage, I still get butterflies when I’m close to her. My kids roll their eyes every time they catch me stealing a kiss from her. I never wanted to tell my girls what love was supposed to look like. I wanted to show them.
When Bill shut down his equipment for the day, I started the movie. It’s early spring in the south, but winter isn’t through with us. An unusual cold front earlier in the week was tightening its grip on us. Bill’s freshly planted flowerbeds were wrapped in plastic and my girls were wrapped in blankets. After my wife made her point by putting cold feet on me, I relented and turned up the heat.
I gave them a little extra time because my neighbor was still blowing debris off his lawn from yesterday’s storm. We all kept our yard neat in my subdivision, but Bill was a perfectionist. If we had a Yard of the Month competition, the rest of us would never see a trophy. He was a good guy, but we didn’t have much contact other than a friendly wave while mowing our lawns. He and his wife were both retired and seemed content living a quiet life.
I nestled in beside my wife on the couch. After twenty years of marriage, I still get butterflies when I’m close to her. My kids roll their eyes every time they catch me stealing a kiss from her. I never wanted to tell my girls what love was supposed to look like. I wanted to show them.
When Bill shut down his equipment for the day, I started the movie. It’s early spring in the south, but winter isn’t through with us. An unusual cold front earlier in the week was tightening its grip on us. Bill’s freshly planted flowerbeds were wrapped in plastic and my girls were wrapped in blankets. After my wife made her point by putting cold feet on me, I relented and turned up the heat.
