as i type this, my wife shows me the little three piece suit she bought for my youngest son. he asked for a suit for his birthday. that's tomorrow. he'll be six. he's a little man. and he's gonna look like a million bucks in his new suit. his teacher better step up and recognize. this boy is exceptional.
he was born under the sign of the shovelhead. flh. police edition. mexico city style. la ciudad de mexico. seguridad publica.
his dad was on the phone making the deal with road dog cycles (yes-the road dog cycles...as in bob holloway..as in the bob holloway that's in prison for some contrived federal vendetta on some racketeering charge...something to do with the hells angels and the federales...whatever....i digress) dad was on the phone planning the drop off (of a legitimately paid for motorcycle) when the mommy, in labor, threw a full smoothie at his head screaming, "get off that god&^% phone". and then we went into the bedroom and delivered our son.
i have been working on the shovelhead ever since.
my boy is six tomorrow.
and the shovel starts almost every time.
"look ma! no hands!"
life is beautiful.
thank you honey.