That being said, I find I must guard against making everything under the sun an object lesson. After all, it's summer. A time to veg. A time to perfect the art of doing nothing. A time to simply hang with my first born in the middle of a carpeted floor with a squeaky ceiling fan on high directly above us while the a.c. pumps out whopping amounts of British Thermal Units per hour. These are the moments I'll wish I could relive when she's 12 hours away at a big University.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Chess Is Life
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