People let me tell you ’bout my best friend

If that title brings a melody to your memory and you have visions of Bill Bixby walking on the beach in the early 70s sticom, your where my mind was at Saturday morning. Do you want to ride along with my memory for a moment or two?

I’m walking out the door with my oldest son, on his way to a whole-day, four-game , soccerfest. Clad in cleats and sporting a spray painted coif of yellow and blue, I’m giving him the part-time Dad’s once-over , grilling him on his last couple days in school. These conversations normally morph into rants against the superfluous, ”how can a middle school teacher in his right mind penalize a student for an improper margin on a hand-drawn picture of the solar system”? But this one was different, his book report poster could be crafted with tech tools, it didn’t have to be cotton balls glued to construction paper.

Sometimes, your kids surprise you. But even if it’s blatant pandering, it still warms a parent’s heart.

“Dad, can I use Jott?”

“That might not make sense Nelson, your time would be limited. Besides, why not just type it?”

“Dad, can you Jott to Skype?”


There’s nothing quite like a shared laugh between father and son. Especially when it involves something that sounds as ridiculous as that.

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