Monday, December 26, 2016
Q, aka The Best Girl in the World
I was just here a moment ago. I read one of the blog entries on the "Forty Years on Two Wheels" site I just mentioned--and yes, I did post a comment--and was shutting down the computer when Q, having just awakened and blearily eaten breakfast, came into the living room and, apropos of the falling snow, so to speak, said, "Can you forgive me?" and handed me a post-it note on which she had written, "2nd Chance." She then happily went back to her bedroom and began playing with her Veggie Tales Pirate Ship Playset. And yes, she is fifteen years old, and you know what? I would kind of like to go play with that pirate ship myself, and I'm just about forty days shy of fifty years old, so what do you think about that? (Care to join me? Keep in mind that the cannon can fire a tennis raquet as well as the red cannon ball.) Speaking of which--fifty years, that is--one of my favorite moments encountered in those fifty years has to do with Q. She doesn't do this anymore, alas, but a few years back when I would put her to bed at night I would always tell her, "You're the best girl in the world." She would then respond, "You're the best girl in the world, too, daddy." Ah, yes. Sometimes life can be so sweet that you wonder how we find time for despair.
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4 comments:
Brother K,
First, thank you for noting my blog in your own. I am glad you enjoyed your visit in my world, which after reading some of your entries, I can tell is slightly different than yours.
Your passion for literature seems to mirror mine for motorcycles though. The two subjects have more in common than one might suspect as both are voyages of discovery and learning.
Your blog entries strike a chord with me even though I am not especially well read and some of the authors and people mentioned are known to me only by the fame of their name and not the reading of their works.
The entries about people and your daughter Q have a familiar feel to them as I am in my middle 50s now and have son who is twenty. There is scarcely anything in life that is more astonishing, heartbreaking, and joyous, than watch your own child grow up. When you write about Q it brings back many memories of my son's early years before he become so doggedly independent (except when he needs more money for school).
I will visit regularly to see what you and Q are up to.
Doug K.
(wow! look! it´s the motorcycle guy! cool!)
"Clare said...
(wow! look! it´s the motorcycle guy! cool!)"
Bikers? Harrumph! There goes the neighborhood!
;-)
Doug
Doug, you and yours can bungle in our jungle any time you like. ("It's alright by me," if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop.) That was my lovely li'l wife, who's currently in Spain. And since she is now a Doug K fan as well, you can rightfully claim international fame--or, if you could already claim that, more international fame, maybe. Or Catalonian fame. Fame, though. Yes.
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