BOY AS ANGEL

You can blast me with a firehose of Artic Sea water, throw me in a cold, dank cell and leave me in there shivering and naked for a month and it would be easier than what we go through when it comes to our children. My son...he looks like an angel sometimes. He is deifinitley a descendant of the Vikings; his wild hair, his Icelandic blue eyes. When I was in high school there was a class to teach students ( women mostly) how to manage a home, raise children etc. They were each given a chicken egg and had to take it with them wherever they went. The following day in class, they found out who still had an unbroken egg. The point was to show how attentive one must be and how delicate a newborn child is. Well..my son is not a chicken egg...but man he sure seems as delicate. But he's tough too. He jumps off the top of the monkey bars, he wipes out on his scooter; all with a brush off and a smile. I love him. I love him so much it scares me. I have been searching for a purpose and now I have one. Raise this child! Guide him and be with him and let him make mistakes and be there and listen and let him know that no matter what--Daddy's right here.