No Off Season...for dads

Today was another proud moment for me.  I watched my boys (from the warmth of my house) get out in the cold and snow and ask neighbors to shovel their walkways for a little profit.  It was fantastic.  They looked so cold. They didn't get as much as they were hoping for, but they got something.  I was so happy for them.The Bible does say that all hard work brings a profit. It made me think back of when my dad would make me get up early on Saturday mornings and cut our grass.  There was one morning when the dread of cutting pollen-filled grass, which activated my allergies and never ending sneezing, changed.  He took me to my neighbor's house and told me to knock on the door.  The neighbor (let's call him Mr. Brown) answered the door, dressed in some argyle socks, a t-shirt, brown slippers, and shorts smoking on a pipe.  I asked if I could cut his grass in which he said yes.  My dad coached me to knock on his door once I finished.  Mr....

I used to hate it when my dad would wake me up on a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning to go outside in the heat in the middle of Georgia (God's country) to cut our grass. I really believe that that he oftentimes forgot that I had a soccer game the day before or I was resting from a long academic week touched by hanging with my friends. Parents to need to be more sensitive to these things. It wasn't until I had kids, boys at that, that I realized that Saturday mornings, or any morning needed to be times where I do less work and they do more.  I mean, let's face it. My dad would show me how to cut grass or sweep the floor. Then it felt like he would lie down in a hammock soaking up rays with an Arnold Palmer and watch me, screaming out some mess like, 'Hey, you missed a spot!' I'm half cussin' (IN MY MIND...) about how I don't want to do this work and why can't he do this instead and why come I don't have anything to drink... Well, here's how i...