27 Aug 2009
“squeak, squeak …”
I pretty much have no idea why she is crying. Well, I have an idea or two, but she can’t tell me, can’t confirm. I do everything I can.
Finally, I sit on the couch holding her as she cries. For an hour.
Good thing this blog is anonymous.
Nothing to do but hold her. As she cries. Except, of course, to cry too.
What a man.
What a god. My plate is full.
You are a good man. For whatever that’s worth. And she knows that. May your plate be emptied a bit for a time.
AT least our kids know we love them. I don’t know about god.
Ditto what Elizabeth said.