Sunday, February 14
Don't accept authority
I hate anyone telling me what to do or how to act. Always have, always will. If I didn't, I'd have close friends and a really well-paying job. If you're reading this, I'd take an educated guess that perhaps you're a little like me (the no-authority bit, I mean... you probably do have a well paid job and close friends).
Someone who is a lot like me is my son. He was two recently, and is already tired of my constant warnings and demands.
This morning we took advantage of the snow disappearing (temporarily no doubt) to go for a walk in the beautiful countryside we're surrounded by.
My boy ran towards me, creating one of those beautiful Kramer vs Kramer moments for the camera, while I awaited his smiling arrival with loving arms outstretched. At the last second he stopped smiling and just veered off to his right to start studiously kicking some leaves.
Later on, I told him to keep up and stop jumping in muddy ditches, and that he must listen to what daddy says. He looked me in the eye and growled 'No!'.
Ha ha. How life comes full circle. The (almost constant) shit I gave my dad when I was young is about to be redirected back at me by a new generation. I actually think it's pretty cool, and I hope I deal with it a lot better than my dad did.