How long is it till later?

This morning, pre-dawn, I was in the living room with my 3 kids. They have all decided that even with a time change, it is still important to get up before there is light, birds chirping, or coffee brewed. Anyway, we were out in the living room and inevitably, I will be asked to get up off the couch I am planted in to do something, get something, or make something.

This morning, like most mornings, where I am faced with this dilemma, I say something brilliant like, "I can do that a little later." Later, always meaning, 'sometime in the future when my buttocks is not stuck to this couch.'

This morning, though...after a few minutes of future had become past, my son posed a deeply profound question to me, "Daddy, how long is it till later?" I looked at him realizing many things: he is more patient than I thought; his sense of time is improving; he cares deeply about setting up his online world of Build-a-Bear [which had started all this in the first place]; being a 'daddy' here is unplugging myself from the couch and getting into his world for a few minutes.

This morning was great, because for a few minutes, I was "Daddy", a daddy who could be a part of my son's life and do something meaningful to him.

Leaky Waders

It's kinda lame when you wake up at 4:00 AM full of anticipation to catch some trout...drive a couple hours on adrenaline and coffee to find a lake you've never fished, but heard good rumors about...pay to fish, freeze your caboodle off gearing and rigging up...pick out the perfect fly to launch into still water...hike through spiky planted brush...which digs into your flesh and tears it's share off as an offering...wade slowly into the crisp 56 degree water...pull out some line to cast as a BREEZE starts to ruffle up the water...then realize, at what is still 0-dark early, that you have leaky waders.