As we were leaving for the 10km on Sunday, I said to my daughter-
Hey, I love you so much but this is a race. I won’t be waiting for you because you hardly trained. Call me when you get to the finish line.
I am pretty sure all of you can guess what happens next.
This was in the subject line of an email I received Saturday.
There was nothing written in the email.
Just a picture.
One day, the year it was opening, a friend and I drove, yikes, on the highway, to Canada’s Wonderland, for a job interview.
We both walked in to be greeted by a really, really, REALLY, good looking older man.
He was like, 30 or something.