19 July 2014

The Genetics of Chocolate Milk

When I was a kid, we were poor. I wouldn't say we were dirt-poor, but that's only because we couldn't afford dirt. Mama was good at making sure us kids were pretty well insulated from it though. I didn't actually know how poor we were until I was in high school. But I always knew there were some things that were rare treats to be savored and enjoyed to the fullest.

For me, the king of treats was chocolate milk. Oh, Hershey, how I do love your syrup. Especially when mixed generously with ice cold milk. I always used one of those big ol' Granny table spoons. The kind that held alot more than a tablespoon. And after a vigorous stir to make sure none was wasted by being stuck on the bottom of the cup, I would use that big spoon to sip the sweet elixir so it would last as long as possible.

Yeah, I know - it sounds goofy in the telling. But a few minutes ago, I heard a slurping sound from across the room as my little Princess enjoyed her chocolate milk exactly the way I did at her age. I know I've never had chocolate milk with her before. Apparently, some things are just hereditary.

I wonder if the scientists investigating the human genetics have figured out which gene is the chocolate milk gene yet.

14 July 2014

Falling Water

I love being a parent. Of all the things I love about being Daddy though, there are a few special types of moments that I absolutely live for. The laughter which runs in my ears as I'm dancing with my little girl; seeing the goofy, sleepy grin on my son's face as he stumbles down the stairs in the morning, sees me and breaks into a run for my first hug of the day; family movie nights cuddled up on the couch with pretty much everyone except the dog piled onto my lap to get comfy. Glorious moments all. But right up there near the top are those candid, hilarious moments which illustrate beyond a show of a doubt that you are indeed the parents of small children.

Like when you sit down to eat and as your beloved spouse prays a blessing over the meal you hear, "... and thank you, Father, for this much needed and welcomed, um, water falling from the sky..." It takes a precocious preschooler to make an intelligent adult forget the name of rain. And the love of a parent to be able to laugh about it.