Day 38

7 Feb

Dear Dad,

I don’t know why I didn’t just make a blog where I write about my life.  Well, I mean, I guess I did that on accident, ’cause this blog is basically me writing about my life.  I just pretend to write you a letter while I do it.  Is that like lying?

On nights like tonight, when Zoe screams for approximately the entire 2 hours she’s awake between her “nap” and bedtime, I wonder if you and I don’t have a better chance than most parent/child relationships.  I say that because tonight I dumped water on Zoe’s head as she was screeching that she did not want her hair to get wet (she was in the tub); which made her howl even louder and made me wonder what kind of parent I am.  And, more importantly, what kind of wounds I’m already inflicting on her.

But you!  You weren’t around to scar me.   You weren’t around to dump a glass of water on my head when I threw a tantrum (I was not in the tub).  You didn’t slam my fingers in the door not once but twice and leave a scar on my fingers (it was an accident, really).  You weren’t there for all the extremely painful pubescent moments from age 12 on.  We have a clean slate, you and I.

I have hope for meeting you yet.



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