Thank heavens for little girls
smelling of deep-fried sugar

It’s the least a new-age sensitive kinda father can do.

Today, Feb. 9, is daughter Sam’s birthday and I figure she deserves a few words of bubbly optimistic encouragement as she takes another step down the road of biological inevitability that leads to wisdom, maturity, lumbago and, probably in the case of her generation, a pitiful government pension when she retires at age 89. Continue reading