I think we have a pond in our back yard. It’s about 1 1/2 acres of surface area, and it’s overgrown, and it attracts alligators and otters. On Monday, Finley decided to do some laps in it – right after I gave him a bath. And I had to go in after him. I was displeased. My father, however, who was there to witness the incident, was more than pleased. In fact, I think he may start a blog and join facebook just so he can talk about it.
I think, in a completely related event, I want to sell Finley on Craigslist. Ad will read: “Free to a good home: dog.”
I think Gilly might not be okay with that.
I think there’s collusion going on in our neighborhood Fantasy Football league – a dad/son combo down the street is swapping players back and forth with each other to circumvent bye weeks. Olivia is marching up and down the street in protest, ranting and raving like a lunatic, garnering support to shoot down their latest trade. I’ve never been so proud.
I think I went to church twice last week – once on Sunday morning, once on Wednesday night, to Awana, with Will, for Dads and Doughnuts. One of these two outings will result in a blog post on Friday. Trust me when I tell you – do not miss it.
Gilly: Which—if I may—can I just say that I am completely ashamed of what I used to do at church? I used to be in charge of making it “relevant” and “cool” and making videos and graphics and lighting. Turns out, Jesus is relevant without my help. And really, Jesus is what people want when they walk into a church building. Not videos and cover songs and pretty lights. I know this now, because after many years of church detox piled on top of many years of not-easy life, all I want is Jesus. No lights/videos/sirens/dancers necessary.