On a daily basis I look at my lovely daughters and thank God above that they look like their mom. Yes, my life would be easier if the looked like me. I mean, seriously, I would never have to worry about chasing guys out of my house as I fire my shotgun menacingly into the air (and by "menacingly into the air" I mean "at them but missing because Tammy hits me in the head with a bat.) Now on the flip side of that, if they looked like me I do have a better chance of seeing them on a bootleg copy of "Chicks Nobody Wants to See Naked....Gone Wild".
...Anyway, what this does do is make me appreciate the moments in their personalities that reflect my genetic influence. Such as this morning. Everyone in the house woke up a little later than usual...except for Grace, who takes great pleasure in being the house's "early bird". Emma was still asleep so Tammy, Grace and myself were enjoying a moment when Grace tells Tammy and I to "Shhhhhhh"...we get very quiet (thinking Emma is stirring to a possible cranky roar). That's when Grace unleashes a fart loud enough to make a truck driver proud. Tammy and I spent the next several minutes trying not to pee ourselves from laughing so hard. I saw myself in that well timed flatulence and thought, "it will take a strong man to love a woman who can pass gas louder and more potent than his own....possibly a man I could call son one day...or at least one I won't have to kill and bury in the backyard."
