#255

M 'n' m like a show called "Fresh Off The Boat." It can be painfully inappropriate. As can "Modern Family," another show we love and devour together, as I otherwise pretend to be a high-principled dad. It's an act I've never tried, the unswayable father. "Can we do that?!" "NO!" "Can we watch this?!" "NO!" The anti-pushover. I don't even play one on TV. Which is an unfunny joke that doesn't make much sense, but there it is, and I contend life itself is often the same, inappropriate and nonsensical, but when it gets that way, we're ready for it, M 'n' m and I, desensitized, grounded, and only a little maladjusted! On a lighter note, we love life, and find that it very often does make sense. Take sports for example. Sports make sense. When Michael hits one over the fence, it makes perfect sense. When Meg is making shots, I get it. Life is good. Anyway, the father-of-the-year award goes to... not me.

Speaking of Meg making shots, she asked if we could go to the park and shoot around. I wept. She wants to practice! We grabbed a ball, hopped on our bikes, and pedaled off to a hoop. She shot while I rebounded and kept feeding her, and then I mock-defended her while she drove to the basket and scored. She has a nice little first step, and a decent touch around the rim. Watching her, I nearly wept again. Basketball with Megan is heaven.