Now then, this is quite the honor. I’m pretty excited to be doing this, because it gives me a place to post ridiculous things about my kids without having to worry about technical stuff. I stink at technical stuff, as evidenced by the timeliness of this post. You see, I signed up for this WordPress account back on Friday or so and sat here for a few days wondering when I would get the “green light” email from Sarcastro.
Then it finally dawned on me just now: maybe the one email I got from Word Press was the email I needed. Turns out–>that was the case. Sadly, that’s the highpoint of my technical skills. anyway, there will be all sorts of things to come about my two boys (pictured below). Unless, of course, I change my mind. Which I of course have the right to do. By the way: “I have a right to change my mind” is what women always say, liek they;re making some grand philosophical point. Well, who said you didn’t have the right to change your mind? It’s a free country. You have every right to change your mind; you just have no right to expect everyone else to go along without a lot of grumbling.
Whoa, off-topic. Sorry. Let’s go back to the kid thing. My wife Lisa and I have two: Thomas, 6, and Benjamin, 2. Eventually, you’ll get a picture, but not at the moment (see, “stinking at technical stuff” in the first paragraph). Thomas is in Kindergarten at Crockett Elementary in Brentwood, a perfectly fine school because it is filled with children whose parents tend to think of school as a place to learn things as opposed to the “school-as-day-care-center” model favored by so many in my former home of Davidson County, not counting of course those die hard public school advocates who send their own children to the academic magnets or, if they’re especially egalitarian in orientation, University School.
For his part, Benjamin attends pre-“school” twice a week. I put quotemarks around “school” because let’s face it: he’s 2. The kid gets one-page “report cards” each time he goes, one-fourth of which is devoted to how many times he crapped his pants. I’m not making this up, and when I figure out how to post a damned picture on here I’ll prove it. Promise.