Tucking eight-year-old Julianna in to bed last night… (and, this was TOTALLY unsolicited):
J: Daddy, I’m glad you invented Daddy/Daughter Fun Time.
Me: That’s great, Sweetie. Why is that?
J: Well, you give advice to younger daddies because you’re so old.
Me: Ok, first of all: I’m not “so old.” The correct term is “beaten-down-by-life.”
J: Yes. That.
Me: And, second of all. I do NOT give advice. In fact, giving advice is absolutely against the rules at Daddy/Daughter Fun Time. Read the rules… (Reader, please click the “No, Not Here” tab up top.)
J: Yeah, but, if someone wanted to climb Mountain Everest, you would tell them not to.
Me: I would? Why, Honey?
J: Because, they could slip and fall and break their bones, and (dramatically): They Could DIE! … HORRIBLY!
Me: Yeah, it’s dangerous.
J (growing more and more concerned): Daddy, please tell everyone NOT to climb Mountain Everest! People will listen to you!
Me: Not really, but… Will it help you fall sleep?
Gentle Readers: Please, do not attempt to climb Mt. Everest. You could fall, break your bones and die. Apparently, horribly. And, that would be bad.
Or, frankly, go ahead and climb it. It’s up to you. You’re Choice. Your Decision. Your Call.
Remember… No Great Achievement has ever been born to Mediocre Advice.
Crap. That’s sounds like advice… Damn.