Is That A Beach I See Before Me?
by Richard
Yeah, it’s that time of year, dudes. When I head out of Casa de Dude, leave the compound in the capable hands of some fierce housesitters who think they can actually control Buz, the garbage disposal that walks like a dog, and head off to the wilds of Crescent Beach in Florida for a small vacation with the family.
It’s an odd year, one in which we realize that people actually are growing older.
We’ve got kids who aren’t going to be there because they’re in various athletic competitions, or on a Mormon mission, or in a play, or galavanting around in New Zealand and Australia. We’ve got people who won’t be there just because, well, they’re old enough to decide they don’t want to come.
And then we’ve got the other parts of the family that go where we tell them to because we tell them to. Am I a bad parent if I say I actually like that bit?
Anyway, I’m off for a little recreation. I’ll still be here, but only because I love you all so much.
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