Comets on Fire

....so, I should be job-searching instead of blogging and eating another pint of ice cream. Or I should be sleeping, saving energy for the twins and almost-4-year-old and 34-year-old wife and almost-9-year-old stepson.

If I'd known I'd feel this good physically and I guess mentally at 42 two decades ago, I'd have had kids then. Empty-nesting would be nigh. Now, my kids will head to college or work sites or hostel tours or incarceration when I'm damn near 60. Retirement will become requirement.

I know, if I don't get a job, I won't have to retire. Ok, new plan. Blogging and ice-cream-eating by night, kidcare and fitness by day. I have a Lotto subscription after all, and best yet, my vivacious wife Carrie has a fabulous job at Whole Foods.

That's right, I'm frying the bacon she's bringing home, and the kids are begging for more, because Daddy knows his way around the kitchen finally after a month of unemployment. I'm pre-heating ovens, microwaving frozen vegetables, sudsing up and rinsing down. Then, I'm putting out my hand so Gavin and Darcy, aforementioned twins, can once again confirm that whole burgers do not fit into 30-month-old mouths.

So cute. But enough about me.

I'll try to do this every day, drawing from the notepad I'll keep handy for capturing the sweet and the sour of my time as a stay-at-home-Dad who will one day say these were the best days of my life. Thanks to Marcy, a photog friend from my time at the Daily Herald, I'm hip to writing down funny moments in a special place--she and others she knew used to keep notebooks of quotes from friends and co-workers. The things people say, I tell ya. Snort, snort, snort.

So, I'll type about them, me versus them, sports (used to be a sportswriter), food, me, current events, and any old goodie I snag from the grab-bag of child-rearing (no priest jokes, please) and marriage (four years and going strong).

Please be four years