*Me: “Who wrote on this door?”
Amy: “Me, but . . . I did it for you Mommy. Because I looove you.”
Me: “You can write things for me on paper.”
Amy: “Paper gets throwed away. I’ve seen it in the trash. The door is forever.”

* - Rhetorical. Each child’s writing and drawing style is unique.

I really enjoyed movies and music more when celebrities kept their personal lives private. Please stop giving the stalkarazzi your schedule and pay for GOOD pr firms, body guards and drivers. If you can’t behave in public, stay home. You are taking all the fun out of spending a week’s pay to take the family to the movies.

Grandaddy: “I’m stuck on Northshore. Can you look up a way around the roadblock?”
Me: “No. That roadblock took down our Internet.”
Grandaddy: “Don’t you have a map?”
Me: “Ummmm.”

Our homegrown terrorist chose his ex-wife’s church as a target. This was not random. He doesn’t just hate some people, he hates everyone. When I read descriptions of him as a “loner,” my head says that he was a lonely, unhappy man who let bitterness and resentment take over his mind like a cancer. Maybe if he had a friend. Maybe if he felt loved. Maybe if we could see each other as human beings first and labels second. Maybe something. I try to pretend the killer is someone I love and care about. I search myself for pity or compassion and find none. The members of the church he attacked will forgive him long before I do. That makes me hateful, too. I don’t want this hate inside of me. The hate inside of me is my responsibility and not his. That doesn’t make me any less angry with him.

Thanks Rich! Congratulations, too!

The children spent the afternoon playing at the cove while Doug stayed home to work. Word of the tragedy was just beginning to reach people picnicking today. The sadness in the city was palpable as people everywhere quietly whispered what they were hearing from the media and friends. Tragically, there was no sense of disbelief. No shock. Just sadness. Only one woman uttered a comment about this happening in Knoxville. With a shoulder shrug and a head shake she quietly said, “Shootings are a daily occurrence in _____ where I live. I guess it’s everywhere now.”

Tommy: “Why don’t you ever let Sarah or I drive when you’re in the car?”
Me: “Because I am delicately balanced between sanity and insanity. Your father is already insane, so he has nothing to lose. He will teach you to drive.”
Tommy: “Oh, that makes sense.”