The preacher at my church read a few lines from Harry Chapin’s classic, “Cat’s in the Cradle” in his Father’s Day sermon last weekend. Below are the lyrics he read: My child arrived just the other day, He came to the world in the usual way. But there were planes to catch, and bills to…
“Masculinity, first and foremost, ought to be defined in terms of relationships. It ought to be taught in terms of the capacity to love and to be loved…”
More often than not, once I start on a bag of smokehouse almonds, it’s only a matter of time before I’m staring at the bottom of the bag and licking salt off my fingers. Now… you might be asking yourself, what in the junk does M&M’s strange obsession with salty almonds have to with his non-negotiable unalterable terms?
Call me boring, but I read those two paragraphs and I can’t wait to be able to play Chutes and Ladders on the living room floor with my little Izzy in a few years. The idea of running to Home Depot or Lowe’s for some project and having her be able to come along with me thrills me to my core.
I saw my grandpa skin racoons, open envelopes, cut rope, dig out splinters, clean fingernails, all with the same pocket knife. I suppose that’s the root of why pocket knives, seemingly a vestige of some older time when dudes needed to carry sharp objects to protect themselves, have continued to be popular: so many situations render them necessary.