Dad Entry #120

I don't know about you, but when I was a kid, my clothes were washed without much effort on my part. At a maximum, I delivered them to a closet or placed them in a hamper, I don't recall specifics. Maybe I threw strikes with socks, and sank buzzer-beaters with balled-up jeans. But that was it, the extent of my laundry duties. Although, there were rules; I'm pretty sure leaving items inside-out and tossed about my room was frowned upon. And I think my washing-person (thanks, Mom) appreciated a heads-up if things were caked with mud or permanent markered or somehow in tatters. But these things, like so many others, were noticed and handled with or without any awareness or courtesy from me. Sure, I was yelled at for the unexpected destruction of new or nice outfits. Otherwise, my dirty clothes always quietly reappeared, fluffed and fresh and delightfully scented, as if by magic. At some age I was trusted with the tiny follow-up task of putting my clothes away, jamming them into drawers, from a neatly folded stack left on the bed. But never once did I have to repeatedly wear dirty clothes (despite a desire to do so, perhaps); never once was this important, taken-for-granted service withheld. And now I'm certain it wasn't magic, because I'm the magician. The circle of life. Illustrated by laundry. As I've mentioned before, it's heartwarming, even if tedious, to fold a pile of princess socks, undies with rainbows and butterflies, delicates with kittens and bows. As long I fold laundry while watching Sportscenter, or some hunting show, I can admit, appreciate, and write about the smile this puts on my face.

Michael and I are taking archery together. We both hit multiple bulls-eyes last week. We're proud. We're improving, and our instructors are Olympic caliber shooters. For real; I'm not kidding for once. We use recurve bows; of course the one I use is much larger, and my arrows are longer, than Michael's. They provide the gear. It's great; I'm happy and grateful Sara found the course in the Palatine Park District catalog and signed us up. I suffer a bit of a dilemma when shooting a bow, just as with a shotgun, since I'm right-handed but left eye dominant. Michael doesn't have this excuse :) I think it helped me in baseball, however, as a righty hitter. So go the pros and cons of our God-given physicalities, each unique, and if you think about it, miraculous. Like I tell my kids: you are the technology. The standard, the amazing thing. Not that Motorola smartphone you're playing games on, not your Xoom tablet, your DS, your Wii, the television, the car, the Space Shuttle even... YOU! The best and brightest engineers can't create it, or recreate it, what God has given you. For free! Use it! Enjoy it. And please take care of it, for your own sake, and, I'd humbly suggest, to show your gratitude.