Pig Emergency

Newsletter 2019-06-17

I woke up on Father’s Day to the sound of tiny feet climbing the stairs to my bedroom. Given what day it was, there was a chance one of my kids wanted to wish me a happy Father’s Day or give me a present or, God forbid, attempt to deliver breakfast in bed. If our house ever burns down, I’m confident it will be because Waffle attempted to make toast.

But knowing my kids, I didn’t think any of those scenarios were likely. Something had to be wrong. They don’t climb the stairs unless they absolutely have to. No DNA test needed, the kids are definitely mine.

Finally, the kid reached the top step and flung open the door. It was Lucy.

“The pig is eating ramen!” she said.

Exactly how I wanted to start off Father's Day. But more important than what Lucy said was what she didn’t say. In our family the most powerful combination of words isn’t “I love you” or “Stop it” or even “I have to poop.” Although with small kids in the house, we still respond to the last one like we’re rushing to defuse a bom…