First of all, thank you for reading my blog with such frequency and fervor. If the multiple profiles following it and hundreds of daily page views are all being generated from you in an attempt to make me feel like more people are reading than really are, I would not be surprised and really appreciate it. You have always been my biggest fan.
Second, thank you for providing such an outstanding example of parenthood. I often look at the way you raised me for guidance during difficult times with my own sons, like that time when they were both in diapers and I went downstairs just to switch a load of laundry and returned to discover the apparent aftermath of a quick yet furious battle whose ammunition consisted entirely of poop. Your patience during stressful moments like those and ability to display that you still loved and supported us has been inspirational.
You may have guessed by now that the previous two paragraphs of obvious (and wholeheartedly truthful) praise are meant to butter you up for the upcoming real purpose behind this letter. Once again, you have displayed one of the qualities that I have tried to emulate: your intelligence.
Over the past year and a half that I have been writing this blog, I have made numerous references to my beer consumption. In that regard, I am not exercising poetic license in order to be funny. I am being completely forthcoming about my enjoyment of beer.
I know this bothers you. I know this because you regularly tell me that this bothers you. However, the purpose of this letter is to assure you that I do not have a problem. Of course, that is exactly what someone with a problem would say, but I don’t have a problem so when I say I don’t have a problem I hope that you recognize it means I really do not have a problem.
Do I have several beers on an evening when I am not working and know that I can do so at my leisure without leaving the house? Sure I do. Do I drink beer in front of your grandsons? Absolutely and I have, in this way, instilled in them the valuable trait of helping their elders by often having them save my knees and run up or down the stairs to retrieve a beer for me. Do I have a beer over breakfast with them occasionally? Yes, but only since starting the overnight shift at work when this beer is essentially a nightcap for me before climbing into bed for the day while they attend school.
As you can see, my beer drinking falls within reasonable, respectable and downright logical guidelines. Furthermore, the discussion of it here on these blog posts serves the original and intended purpose of this blog, which I cannot remember at this time because I have had a few beers, but I will be sure to mention to you as soon as it comes to me, which will probably be tomorrow morning.
Oh, wait! It highlights the duality of my personality and that of many fathers around my age. We are essentially big kids, enjoying awesome action movies, building Lego sets and cartoons just as we did twenty plus years ago while being legally able to drink beer, vote and drive.
But not in that order. In the opposite order. In fact, just forget I put “drive” in there at all. Just completely forget it. Oh, man I just screwed this up.
What I’m trying to say, mom is that you shouldn’t worry about me. My enjoyment of an undisclosed number of beers while sitting at my dining room table and building the Lego Millennium Falcon and subsequently telling everyone about it is simply a shining example of my ability to enjoy the fruits of my maturity while simultaneously staying true to myself and not being afraid to be who I really am.
And isn’t being happy and confident about who I am the best way to live the way you showed me how?
Again, my point is that I don’t want you to worry about me, mom. I’m doing fine and not keeping a load of misery hidden from you. I have a wonderful family. I enjoy writing this blog. I have a crappy job…BUT it allows me to live comfortably (by which I mean buy Lego sets for myself aside form the ones I buy for the boys and still afford groceries) in an era when many are losing their jobs. I laugh and, in my own humble estimation, live life to its fullest each day.