nurture

happy-xmas

I originally wrote about a news story (about the Bronx Zoo) that pissed me off and the embedded suggested link to a story (about glowing cloned puppies) that pissed me off even more, but I deleted it. It was super negative and ranty and it’d be more preaching to the choir.

Instead I’m writing about my dad. It’s his birthday today and he’s having a bad day, which I find unacceptable. This is my favorite picture of us that I have in my possession. Not just because I’m friggin’ cute as all get-out, but because I think it’s Christmas in 1977, we were living in Southern California, and he’s taking the factory handle off my bike so it could be replaced with this awesome thing that made motorcycle revving noises when you turned the handle. How many 4-year-old girls had this piece of genius on their bikes?

This is how my parents raised me, to both wear pretty dresses and pretend I was ridin’ a hog (with training wheels). So thanks, Dad. You and Mom taught me to question the rules. To think about the consequences before I act. To care about others. To work hard and laugh harder. Even when you don’t agree with me on everything or think I’m taking things too far (calling me your little Jane Fonda), I’ve always known that you respect me. And I know you read this even if you don’t care about “that vegan stuff” because it’s me. (Although I do wish you’d eat a lot less meat.)

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