Archive for the ‘Letters to L.’ Category

And Not For The First Time

June 30, 2020

Regarding yesterday’s post, I just wanted to clarify that while I’m in no way above setting up for a joke, I like to make it clear upfront when I’m doing so. What I posted yesterday actually happened the way I wrote it. I was feeling a tad maudlin and staring at what I had written knowing that the post needed something, when my son came in and provided it.

I Get Credit For That, Right?

June 29, 2020

Some days I wonder which is going to be harder, for my son to forgive me for the mistakes I make as a father, or for me to forgive myself.

Then, like just now (no joke), he interrupts me to ask if I can clean up the mess the dog made because he doesn’t want to touch it, and I do stop and clean it up because that is part of my current duties as a father.

Then I Realized The Latter Would Probably Be A More Interesting Read

June 23, 2020

Just now I saw an ad promising to reveal the secrets of “alchemy and mysticism,” but for one moment I read that as revealing the secrets of “alcohol and mysticism.”

Upon Hearing This, His Mother’s Response Was, “Yeah . . .”

June 11, 2020

On a much needed lighter note, today my son, L., and I were playing with our dog, Isa, and my son got some of her fur in his mouth, prompting us both to laugh.

“Oh, Isa,” I said to the dog because she was looking confused. “You’re always good for amusement even when sometimes you don’t mean to be.”

“Like my mom!” L. chimed in.

Two Things I Want My Son To Learn Early (Part Three)

May 22, 2020

Possibility is not probability.

In other words, just because something can happen, that doesn’t mean it will. A “million to one shot” literally means something so unlikely that you could, on average, attempt it one million times, and only succeed once. Yes, that “on average” part is important, and I have indeed seen some wildly improbable things come to pass. Never the less, understanding that it’s possible you could succeed on your first try, or still be struggling after two million (or more) attempts will go a long way in helping you make good decisions . . . or at least help you keep your bad decisions in proper prospective.

Understanding this is super-important to me for . . . reasons I have already mentioned.

Two Things I Want My Son To Learn Early (Part Two)

May 21, 2020

Correlation is not causation.

In other words, just because two things occurred at the same time, that does not necessarily mean that one caused the other, or even that they are related at all. My favorite example of this is while there is a strong correlation between foot growth and intellectual development in children, this doesn’t mean we keep the source of our intellect in our feet, and there are many, many other fine examples.

Correlation may indicate a relationship, but don’t take it for granted. I’ve heard tell of a professor who would put a light switch behind a screen so you couldn’t see if he was flipping the switch or not with his concealed hand, then he would raise his other arm in the air and the lights would go on and off as he moved his arm. He would then point out the strong correlation between his arm raising and lowering and the lights going on and off.

(Naturally, when asked to move away from the screen and the switch, the lights continued to go on and off with the raise of his arm because he had a hidden assistent turning the lights on and off at the professor’s signal.)

Two Things I Want My Son To Learn Early (Part One)

May 20, 2020

Correlation is not causation.

Possibility is not probability.

Okay, Maybe It’s Not So Much Of A Secret, Come To Think

May 19, 2020

“Do you know where Miss Eat-n-arf is?” my son asked earlier today, thus revealing to me the secret identity of Social Distancing Dog.

Thanks For Saving Me Some Time Today, Son

May 5, 2020

The basic idea of Isa (our dog) is easy.  You just need fur and a stomach.

– Today’s drive-by observation from my son, L. (age 9)

When He’s Right, He’s Right

April 15, 2020

Today my son asked if he could have some more orange slices, but this time could I “set them closer to him.”

“Okaaaay!”  I gleefully told him, which really should have warn him, then I carefully balanced the plastic bowl with the orange slices on top of his head so he wouldn’t forget about them like he had the previous slices.

He sighed softly.  “This is a one time joke, right?” he asked me.  “Because it wouldn’t be funny a second time.”