Many years ago, I was helping my dad clean out some portion of his hoarding house
when he picked-up a black trash bag and began carefully placing crystal goblets into the bottom of the bag. And I may, or may not, have said, “You shouldn’t have nice things.” O.K. this was a very true disrespectful thing to say, and I probably deserved a time out. I wish I hadn’t said that to my dad. I wish I had just covered my eyes and thought of my happy place, which at that moment would have been a professionally organized walk-in closet complete with sparkly lighting, floor to ceiling mirrors and a dry bar.
I grew-up with this kind of bedlam so you’d think I’d be better prepared for the task of parenthood. Although, you could also draw the conclusion that slamming your hand in the side door of a minivan would better prepare one for a tax audit. For me, I’d take the pain of a crushed limb over an audit any day. ...Continue Reading