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Everything at home depends, in one way or another, on Susan. During the time I'm at work she somehow manages to care for the children, work half-time, volunteer at Peninsula Youth Theatre more than half-time, and still have energy left to deal with my eccentricities in the evenings. Meanwhile, I go from one cup of coffee to the next, trying to make it to the end of the week. I have no desire to emulate her, being fundamentally lazy, so I just watch in awe (and love (and lust (and admiration))).

Parenting is simultaneously a joyous, painful, tiring, and rejuvenating experience. At 9 and 12 years old, both of my daughters can already outsmart me, which either says a lot for their intellect or not much for mine.

Unfortunately, worship of the feline deity has declined in the past couple of years, with the favorite religious rite of my daughters involving body-slamming the cat. Fortunately, they've only recently begun to outmass him, so no real damage is done, but, as with most deities, we don't see nearly as much of him now as we once did, since he spends most of his time hiding under the bed.