Here we are with just over two days left in 2012 and I’m having such a hard time finding anything to write. Part of me doesn’t know if I even want to continue writing anymore. I don’t have any grand designs that what I write is phenomenal or anything, mostly pretty ordinary stuff a dad would write to his kids… every day… for two years. I’m sure if they ever discover these ramblings and, even more, if they ever have the time to sit down and read them they will be thoroughly unimpressed. That’s OK. I can always look back on them and remember where I was, what I was thinking, how I felt at ever moment the things I’ve written about happened. Kids, if I stop writing in a few days I know you’ll understand and won’t be heartbroken. Heh… That was supposed to be some kind of a laugh but it didn’t come out right. It doesn’t matter, maybe I’ll just start keeping an old-fashioned journal on paper — a way for me to remember these moments in my life. When I’m old and my mind is completely gone, one of you two can read me selections from it like in that godawful movie with James Garner. To make it more interesting, you should deliberately take the pages out of sequence and really mess with my mind!
Anyway, today we went out to the Apple Store, dear son. You and I had a great time. Of course we always do. Your sister stayed home with Mommy and they hosted your aunt’s baby shower. You kept talking about how much you love the Apple Store. Daddy didn’t love it so much after they basically told me I had to wipe my phone clean and start fresh because of some ridiculous reason they couldn’t even explain. But you, son, you love hanging out at that little table back by the Genius Bar and playing with all the kids apps on the iPads. And you loved it so much you convinced me to promise to download a bunch of them when we got home. A few more errands and we would be done. After all that, Mommy and I headed to another movie. I know, I just got through saying I don’t go that often and here I am at a second movie in three days. It was Les Miserables. It was OK. I saw it on Broadway years ago. I was unmoved by Russell Crow’s nasal whining. Otherwise, it was decent. Two things, though… 1) I DO NOT like seeing dead children in films (cf.: Gavroche). 2) The use of expository writing was enough to make every person in the audience feel like a complete moron. Case in point: “My name is Marius – and mine’s Cosette!” Seriously, you don’t have to take up valuable time having the characters sing their names to one another. I think we could have figured that they might find out the other’s name without it having been sung to them by that character.
OK, I’m done.