"I have an enormous head," I commented, looking upon a photo of myself.
Child 1: "No you don't, Daddy."
Child 2: "I've seen plenty of people with heads your size."
Child 3: "Like a big watermelon."
Oh, sure. I'm supposed to be fair in my assessment of my children. I'm supposed to spread the love. Evenly. Yeah. Too bad my enormous watermelon-sized head (found often in nature) doesn't come with a commensurate-sized brain.
God granted me the gift of love when my children were born. I love my wife dearly. Completely. It was the biggest and bestest kind of love I knew. But when my children were born, something opened up in my heart; a secret chamber filled with love hidden until that very moment. Each of my children live there.
I think it's time to divvy up the love into bigger and smaller portions.
Let's examine the pluses and minuses...
Child 1: Can't be found when I'm working in the yard and wanting a cold beer.
Child 2: "Mom says you don't need a beer. Here's a water, instead."
Child 3: "You want a bottle or a can?"
Child 1: No Father's Day card.
Child 2: Hand-tooled Father's Day card.
Child 3: In-class craft centers Father's Day card.
Child 1: Loves my cooking.
Child 2: Helps me cook.
Child 3: Wants hot dogs.
My philosophy in life is simple: Play the cards you're dealt.
I'm looking at three jokers.