Me Write Pretty One Day

Last night I had the unique opportunity of meeting best-selling author and award-winning humorist David Sedaris. He was doing a reading and as a birthday present, my wife Ashley purchased tickets. This is the third time I've attended a performance by Mr. Sedaris, but the first to actually meet and speak with him face-to-face. Even more thrilling was being able to hand him a copy of my own book Sugar Milk.

Understand, Mr. Sedaris's style has had a huge influence on my own writing; so to be in such a situation was both a monumental and a bit nerve-wracking. Despite the drink I downed earlier, I kept second guessing myself. What if he thinks I'm just trying to impress him? Is he going to see this as ploy to get noticed? I was fairly sure even if I did go through with it, he would shrug his shoulders and several hours later one of the ushers would find my book left under the table and deposit it at the lost and found.

This is why I have a wife who encourages me to carry out my grand schemes despite knowing the sure embarrassment I will feel. Her little pushes either demonstrates Ashley's love for me or the joy she takes in watching me squirm. Of course, had it not been for my wife, I may have never read one word of David Sedaris. Several years ago, she handed me a copy of Me Talk Pretty One Day, and since then I've burned through most everything he's written. This is why I insisted to Ashley that she should have her name, not mine, inscribed insider the copy of her favorite book.

When it was our turn (we were third in line by the way), we stepped up and Ashley handed Mr. Sedaris her book. "And what animal would you like for me to draw?" he asked in the same way a party clown with balloons would at a birthday party.

"A unicorn," my wife shot back before then adding, "with sparkles!"

Let me say here that for everyone of my long distance friends and bloggers who have met my wife in person, they fall immediately in love with her wit and charm, while at the same time, quickly realizing how uninteresting I actually am. She has an instant vivacity that she engages people with, drawing them in. Meanwhile I will remain nearby in awkward silence, making myself an open target for confused glances.

Standing before Mr. Sedaris was no different, and while the two of them deliberated over a unicorn's anatomy, I shifted back and forth on the balls of my feet and fidgeted with the tickets. After settling on the exact placement of the mythical beast's horn, both Ashley and Mr. Sedaris glanced up at me as if to demand that I explain my presence.

This is when the adrenalin took over and I blurted out something to the effect of: "Hi, I'm sure in every town you stop at there's some precocious, neurotic writer-type who claims that you have been a great influence on them, that they are your biggest fans and that they have read all your stuff. Then they proceed to hand you a signed copy of their own book and say it's a token of their gratitude and admiration of you. Well, allow me to be the first to do so here in Houston." Then I handed him a hardback version of Sugar Milk.

"Oh thank you," Mr. Sedaris said eyeing it over before stuffing it into a bag most likely meant for collecting items to donate to indigent children. "So, have you been on tour?" he asked to which I replied by rattling off a list of the one I had already done as well as those coming up. Honestly, after that, my memory is blank. I don't remember a single thing that happened next until finishing half a glass of Merlot in the upper mezzanine a few minutes before the start of the show. The whole moment seemed as if it never happened.

Later, however, while Mr. Sedaris drew huge laughs from the audience, a sick feeling grew in my gut. Did I really just hand my writing hero my insignificant little book? With sports stars like Lebron James or Brett Farve, they sign a ball or photo and hand it to you, you don't normally reciprocate the act. I felt like a dunderhead, especially as he started reading excerpts from Tim Johnston's collection of short stories, Irish Girl. A mere paragraph from that book was powerful enough to blow me away. There is no way my writing comes close to this sort of talent, a thought that caused me to sink lower in my chair.

This morning, however, a few thoughts occurred to me. Maybe comparing my skills to those of such accomplished writers wasn't a fair of me. Maybe by rating myself against them, I changed them from being representative of the standard I hope to achieve and instead turned them into the very mechanism that discourages me from striving towards that aim. Heroes inspire us to work toward something higher, not intimidate us into never trying.

Do I think Mr. Sedaris will read Sugar Milk? Probably not. I'm not sure how he would even relate to the subject matter. Yet, on the other hand, he does write quite often about his family and a healthy portion of it involves his father. Sadly, the image he portrays of his him is less than flattering during Mr. Sedaris's years growing up. His stories certainly do not depict someone even closely resembling today's involved dads, and so possibility the fatherhood themes of Sugar Milk may pique Mr. Sedaris's curiosity.

But it really doesn't matter whether he reads it or not. It was a gesture of gratitude with no expectations beyond that. Last night was about a rare opportunity that is now a storied memory. In the meantime, I will continue to clack away at a keyboard in hopes of always improving. Who knows, maybe me write pretty one day.


For those of you who have never heard David Sedaris, here's a short video I think you will enjoy.


Who's Got Two Thumbs And A Daddy Blog? This Guy

Ladies and gentlemen, come on over, step right up, and see if you can answer this question: Who’s got two thumbs and a blog? Give up? THIS guy, that’s who.

And it’s not just any blog—no ladies and gentlemen, it’s not. So what kind of blog is it you might be askin’ Well I’m-a-gonna tell you. It’s a bona fide, electrified, personified, stupendi-fied, deep fried…

DADDY blog!

A what?
A daddy blog.
A daddy blog?
That’s right, folks, a daddy blog. And just what might you be askin’ is a daddy blog?

Why a daddy blog’s the hottest thing around. The biggest game in town. None like it can be found—whoooops! Forgive me, I forgot about the ladies or should I say, mommy bloggers. Why a daddy blogger is just like a mommy blog only different.

Different how you might be asking? Different now. Yes the mommies have paved the way, but ohhhhhh how things are a changin’. Mommies are the past. Daddies are the new shiny future. Now you can get in on those mommy's hidden little cash cow, just like I did, and all it takes is a—shhhhh… secret ingredient.

And just what, you might be askin’ is this secret ingredient? Well I’m-a-gonna tell ya, but first ya need to slide in a little closer. Closer. Cloooser…

... PIZZAZZ!!! That’s the secret ingredient—even made you jump at the very mention of it. That’s because Pizzazz is powerful stuff. Powerful stuff indeed. Why just a pinch will make ya famous. That’s the God’s honest truth. Cross my heart and hope to die. Make your stat count climb through the sky.

Why Pizzazz does so many things for a blog it’s hard to count them all but I’m gonna try anyway just because you’re such a good crowd—I mean that, I really do. You’re waaaay smarter than that last bunch a few towns away. Where was I? Oh that’s right, Pizzazz from the makers of Hoopla.

Add a drop of Pizzazz and you won't need good content, you won't need to respond to the comments on your post and you won't need any sort of a community. Why, with Pizzazz you don’t even need any credibility, just jump right in and hob-knob with the A-blogs, make cash like they do. But that’s not all! No. Slather on Pizzazz to cure baldness, drop fifty pounds or lower your blood pressure. (*See disclaimer below).

Yessirrreee, with a little Pizzazz you’re sure to bring affiliates a-flocking, and keep their products a poppin’. Never mind they don’t know your name when they contact you about their wares, you’ve got Pizzazz!

And just where, you might be askin’ do you get this here Pizzaz? Well I’m-a-gonna—Hey! What’s the big idea? You’re putting a fat cart before a skinny horse my friends. First things first. Do you even have a daddy blog? No? Well this is your lucky day ‘cause I’m gonna help you out. All you need is a computer… whooops! Almost forgot. You’re gonna need a booger eater or two running around at your feet. You’ve got a few of those right? I’ve got five. Eenie. Meenie, Miney, Moe and little Bob—cute little dickens. Takes after his mother. Now where were we? Oh that’s right, a daddy blog.

You know you want one. Don’t be left out, gentlemen. (Sorry ladies, for reasons—wink, wink—you’ll have to sit this one out. Please take no offense.)

So step right up, men. Here’s your chance. Make up a name and establish your domain…on the web that is. No peeing on your monitors please. Then grab your can of Pizzaz and mix it all in for your very own bona fide, electrified, personified, stupendi-fied, deep fried…

Daddy Blog!

Yesssirrree, soon you too will be askin’ who’s got two thumbs and a goldmine? This guy, that’s who.

* * *

*Disclaimer: Results from the use of Pizzazz may vary. Do not use Pizzazz if you are a reasonably intelligent person, or are wise to delusions of grandeur. Pizzazz is not meant to be ingested, and should not be used in conjunction with male enhancement products. Avoid using Pizzazz if you are breastfeeding, pregnant are about to become pregnant as Pizzazz is intended for dad bloggers only. If you are unsure about whether Pizzazz is right for you consult this site’s blog rolls for a list of upstanding daddy bloggers who are Pizzazz free.

PS. Don’t be “This guy.” He once used to be me. I didn't think to just be myself.


Parental Alienation Awareness Day

I don't normally post on the weekends, but today (the 25th) is Parental Alienation Awareness Day. Some of you may not be aware of what Parental Alienation is so I've included a short, forty-second video at the end of this post to help explain it little better. Parental Alienation, or Hostile Aggressive Parenting as it's also referred to, is a form of child abuse where a child's relationship with another parent (usually in a divorce situation) is intentionally interfered with. It's very slippery in terms of diagnoses, and can range from mild (badmouthing the other parent) to extreme (completely cutting off the other parent). But in any case, the effects are always damaging to the child regardless to the amount, and it's important to keep in mind that the child is the victim, not the alienated parent.

For many regular readers of the Lunchbox, you know my own situation and have read my earlier posts concerning parental alienation and my sons. For a while I used to tell myself that maybe I was just being overly dramatic? That it was in my head and I wanted people to feel sorry for me? But in educating myself I learned this wasn't just a head game or pity party; it was real. Over time my situation has improved, but there are many others out there who cannot say the same.

If you or someone you know has questions about Parental Alienation visit the Parental Alienation Awareness Organization website. There you will find details, links and articles on the subject as well as a list of family activities planned around the globe (and possibly your city). Find out how you can help. Thanks for taking the time.


Babies From The Gut

Today's post is dedicated to all those dads-to-be out there. Please don't let it scare you. Hope you enjoy reading about all my delivery room foibles. Happy Friday to you.

Babies From The Gut

If anyone has any doubts about how to raise a baby, they are living in the right day and age. It seems there are more resources, studies and products available for expecting couples than ever before. This is a far cry from my parent’s time when Dr. Spock covered all the baby care bases, and my mom treated rashes caused by my reusable diapers with a grayish cancer-causing cream while dad smoked Marlboros a few feet away.

In the years that followed, awareness for a baby’s wellbeing increased, and being the hipsters they were, my parents kept up with the trends. In preparation for my sister’s arrival, for example, they slapped a thick coat of oil-base paint on my old crib to cover the chipped up lead-based layer I had gnawed on while teething. And toddlers would no longer be permitted to stand on the front seat of dad’s truck as I had; instead, my sisters would be securely strapped into something referred to as an “infant car seat,” a contraption that, as I recall, resembled a torture devise from SAW III.

Read the final part of "Babies From the Gut" at Houston B.A.B.Y.Magazine

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This post brought to you by the fine folks at Dad-Blogs and their Fatherhood Friday series.


The Almighty Dad Talks About Courage

Today's post is by special guest blogger Keith Wilcox of Almightydad. Keith is probably one of the most well-rounded bloggers I know, and his site reads more like a webzine given the broad depth of topics he covers. This means he's also one of the most intelligent I know as well. As it states in his blog's moniker, "Opinionated Since 1974," Keith is not afraid to share his thoughts, but he does so in a way that is convincing and thorough, not necessarily all up in your grill. But Keith not only writes, he's a full-time stay-at-home dad who home schools his sons. Honestly I don't know how he does it all, not to mention how he will pop up on a number of other blogs where he is sure to to leave an insightful comment. Keith's post today on courage is indicative of the quality of his work.

Be Courageous. You'll Regret it if You're Not

I read somewhere recently, and I can't remember where or I'd say it, that one of the top regrets people have when they get older is not having been courageous when they were younger. I'd go further than that. I think most people regret being wimps at any age but they don't readily admit it. But, older people do probably try harder to be genuine than younger people; they realize the brevity of life and make the decision to be genuine in the interest of efficiency. After all, there's no sense in wasting time with hiding your feelings for the sake of peace when you know your opportunities to be true to yourself are becoming fewer by the day. Courage can mean a lot of things. It can be the willingness to stand up to a bully or the ability to speak one’s mind when everybody else is opposed. Courage requires knowing yourself and acting on your conviction, or at least not acting against your conviction.

It's not About Rudeness:

Have you ever been forced to endure listening to someone who tells you all the many ways they think you're a bad parent? We all have. What's your reaction? Do you politely listen, waiting for them to go away; then, once they've left, turn to your nearest friend to unload all your frustrations? I'll bet, after you've finished gossiping about it, you still feel wronged. Wouldn't it have been better to have stopped that person while they were still talking? It would be much more satisfying, albeit scary, to say it to their face than to your friend. If need be you could have turned away from them or asked them to stop talking about it. It's not rude to disagree with someone. But, people choose passivity because they're concerned about keeping the peace regardless of what they have to sacrifice. And they regret it every time. Passive aggressive is still aggressive, and it's not healthy. Built up aggression is worse than politely saying what's on your mind at the moment of confrontation.

You Only Live Once:

When you’re young it's easy to say “Next time I'll do it differently.” But as time goes on, and that promise remains unfulfilled, the regret piles up. A few years ago I saw an able bodied person pull into a handicapped spot (no sticker) in front of an old guy who was going for the same spot (he had a purple heart license plate and everything). He had to go two rows back and, when he opened the car door, his wife came around and held his elbow to help him up. When I saw that I decided to speak up. When the healthy woman came out of the store I confronted her. I told her she should be ashamed of herself. I also pointed out the man's car who she had displaced. What was her reaction? She said she had every right to park in the handicapped spot because her shoulder hurt and she couldn't carry her bags very far. I called bullshit on her. I didn't stop her while she unloaded a string of profanities on me for “getting into her business” or when she drove away. But I did walk away knowing I'd done the right thing. I also have a suspicion that that woman will think twice before stealing another handicapped spot. If I had not said anything I would have had to tell myself “Next time.”

What About Your Kids?

You aren't a superhero, but you are to your kids, or at least you should be. If you can't be proud of yourself then your kids will see that and learn from it. Even if you've become accustomed to acquiescence, do you really want that for your kids? We all want our kids to grow up to be stronger than we are. I want my kids to have all of my strengths, plus their own, and none of my weaknesses. As a result I force myself to take actions, in the interest of doing the right thing and setting an example, that otherwise I might not. I've seen several people change their personalities when they have kids. They must have gone through the same epiphany. They have kids and suddenly realize the best way to teach them is by example, and their “Next Time” attitudes fly right out the window. It takes strength to do that for your kids, to completely change because you know it's right. It would be nice to see every parent reach the same conclusion.

Minimal Risk:

We live in the modern world in a country of relative peace and prosperity. Speaking up isn't going to get you thrown in jail. There's no risk of persecution except from friends and peers. Nobody's asking you to save Anne Frank or protest in Tienanmen square. I'm making a simple request to speak up when you've been insulted and tell people what you really think. Practice politeness but also don't be wishy washy. We look at that guy standing in front of the tank in Tienanmen square and think maybe we could do that too. But, if you can't ask your neighbor to stop letting his dog crap in your yard, how are you going to ever stand in front of a tank? You can keep telling yourself, “Oh, it's not that important.” But, isn't it really because you're afraid? There's no shame in admitting it, just in not learning from it.

Courage is not something that comes easily. To be courageous comes with a degree of risk, and some people are averse to risk. Yes, there's a chance you'll get a broken nose. There's a chance everyone you know will go against you and you'll lose friends. Confrontation is assured when you determine to be courageous. You'll take a stance while others fade. It's easy to go with the pack, to join the mob. It's hard to say no. Take heart in knowing that most people exist as tools of the mob, too afraid to be themselves and too afraid to be different. They're against you out of fear. They'll regret it when they look back on their lives from old age. Our lives are too short to waste on appeasement. There are times to ignore minor slights and there are times that confrontation is necessary. We all know which is which.

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You can read more of Keith's work at or through his page on Facebook. I highly recommend it.


38 By The Numbers

2 Loving parents
3 Talented and lovely Sisters
2 Colleges (Liberty University and St. Edwards University)
4 Majors (Graphic Design, Poly Sci, Psych & finally English Lit)
1 An Army of ___
4 Marriage proposals (Long story)
3 Accepted
1 Rejected (Shorter story)
2 Weddings
3 Incredible sons whom I will forever be proud of
1 Divorce
1 Gorgeous wife whom I can never love enough (Bonus: add 1 to talley)
2 Hilarious stepdaughters who are too precious
1 Minivan
3 Jobs
1 Honorable discharge
1 Resignation
1 Lay off
1 Book written (hint, hint)

= 38 years of a life with many ups and downs, but altogether rewarding.

Extra Credit:
38 years X the value of countless friends = priceless.

Thank you.


The Fantastic Mr. Fox

Well, I back from my week with the boys, and almost through playing catch up. We had a great time--probably one of the best trips yet. I'll post more on that later next week, but thought I share this little story of how out of shape I am both physically and mentally.

Growing up in the country, with no video games or cable TV, while be corn-fed right from our own garden, I tended to be in good condition. Plenty of outdoor chores, a job at a feed mill, and lots of high school sports only aided to my physical fitness. Now closing in on forty, I'm starting to get the sense I've let myself go, which really is my own fault sitting behind a computer all day, feasting on whatever is easiest processed faux-food to shove down my throat.

You don't think much of your health until your kids say something to the effect of wanting to build a treehouse together, and being the good father, you jump into the project with both feet only to be out of breath when you land. That was me anyway.

After drawing up some rudimentary plans, I showed my father and he suggested that easiest thing to do would be to chainsaw down long strait trees about 6 inches in diameter "to make it as sturdy as possible." And he would know about sturdy having constructed for my sisters and I several monstrosities that in the event of a nuclear detonation would've survived the blast joining the cockroaches as the only evidence of previous life on the planet. He's The Master. How hard could it be given such advice?

Well for one I couldn't get the chainsaw to work right, and envisioning me using two bandaged nubs to drive the Chevy Traverse back to Texas, I figured I'd wait until Dad got home from work to set me straight. When he did arrive, there seemed to be a strange glee in his face.

"Come on son, I'll give you hand." Minutes later he had buzzed down half a dozen trees for use as support beams.

This is when I realized how out of shape I had become. It was a huge struggle for me to drag the logs to the proposed tree house's location. In my younger days I wouldn't have even broken a sweat. We heated our home with a wood furnace during the winter so cutting, hauling, splitting, and stacking wood was one of those regular events your body adapted to. Now it was all I could do to move a few small logs a mere several yards.

Seeing my labors, Dad got an amused look on his face. At over 60, the man is still something of a machine running circles around the other younger guys at work. "Hey, Son, let me get the four-wheeler and you can skid them out."

Why didn't we have one of those when I was a kid? Life would've been a lot easier for me then. Pretty soon I was pulling more 8 to 10-foot logs all over the place while Dad kept cutting what seemed like an inordinate amount of timber that continued to grow in diameter from the originally suggested diameter. Odd.

Next I found myself dragging the resulting tree tops left over and placing them into piles. "Better to do it now rather than later. That way you can enjoy the tree house without a lot of clean up," Dad reasoned.

Makes sense to me. But somewhere in the process of doing this, I noticed that Dad was no longer anywhere in the vicinity (turns out he was helping unload his new John Deere tractor that had just arrived--more toys since my leaving home). And after counting up the timber for the project I realized there was more than I would ever need.

Hmmm. "I think we've been had," I said to my son Noah who had since joined me in my endeavors.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I think Grandpa pulled a fast one us." The night before Dad had watched The Fantastic Mr. Fox with the boys, and he seemed rather enamored with it. "I think Grandpa just got us to do a little wood cutting for winter." I shook my head. "Grandpa's The Fantastic Mr. Fox."

Noah tilted his head still wearing a confused expression. "Huh?"

Then I thought about it for a moment. "Never mind, Son." I decided to forgo further explination. The Fantastic Mr. Fox is a favorite movie of mine too.


Beyond sinking the support posts, the tree house did not get finished. Weather and timing threw off the schedule, but the boys didn't seem to mind. We'll be back at it this summer. When I mentioned to Dad that I figured out his game, his only response was a wide grin. Finally, the realization of my poor physical condition has prompted me to work out again, but at least I slept very well that night.

This post brought to you by the great community at DadBlogs and their Fatherhood Friday series. Check it out.


Saving The World Can Be So Blasé: Houston Family Magazine

Even though I'm on spring break with my boys I do have a few short posts that I scheduled. This is my "Back Talk" Column in the April issue of Houston Family Magazine. Read about my step-daughters' commitment to the environment. Enjoy.

"Saving The World Can Be So Blasé"

I appreciate that schools are encouraging students of all ages to be conscientious of societal issues like avoiding illegal drugs and respecting the environment. Such topics were never discussed during my formidable years. About the only thing that even came close was Fire Safety Day when, in lieu of science class, a couple of guys from the local volunteer fire department would talk to us in the auditorium about …stuff (for the life of me, I can’t remember what). This typically was followed by a fire drill which ended with the firemen telling everyone the entire third grade perished in the flames because they were talking too much and missed the emergency exit. Then we were allowed to climb all over the town’s lone fire truck while the teachers gathered in the far corner of the parking lot to smoke Virginia Slims.

Read the rest at


Giveaway At The Good Men Project

I know everyone's sick of hearing about "the book," but The Good Men Project is running an excerpt today from the chapter "Going Back." This is a brand new sample from the book, and it has not been run anywhere before now. Click here for more.

In addition, The Good Men Project is not only publishing the excerpt, but they are doing a drawing for a signed copy of Sugar Milk. So, if you haven't already obtained a copy this is your chance to get a signed one for free.

Many thanks to The Good Men Project for all their support. If you haven't already, please check out their book and nonprofit work for more details.

PS. Forgive me for not answering comments right away. I'm enjoying the time with the my boys (thanks for all the well wishes), and I'll catch up when I get back. Thanks.


Dad Bloggers Can Suck It!

I came across this little gem from Right now they are running a deal where you can nominate and vote for your choice to be among their list of the Top 50 Mommy Bloggers. That's all fine and dandy; in fact several of the people on the list I consider to be personal friends who are absolutely deserving of such an honor. Then why am I writing this?

Well, I'm pretty sure everyone knows how I feel about mommy bloggers. They deserve a great deal of credit for what they've accomplished and I certainly don't want to take anything away from them. Yet, when I see lists like this, I can't help but wonder why dad bloggers are snubbed.

There are a number of guys out their are doing great things in the bloggospher. DadCentric, Dadlabs, DadWagon, and a slue of others that day in and day out reach large parenting audiences only to be snubbed by "parenting" webzines and publications. These guys have all earned attention from the likes of CBS, CNN and USA Today just to mention a few, and still, there's been very little if any validation at all within the parent blog niche.

In my opinion, this is part of a bigger misconception--the one about dads having little to offer in the way of parenting. Remember? We're the fat oafs that can't change a diaper, the ones marketers shy away from unless it's some gadgety doohikey with all manor of bells and whistles. Basically we dad bloggers can go suck it.

I guess there's a part of this that gets my ire. Remember the flack networks and print media was hit with over not having more female reports and visible sportscasters? If you take a look at such publications as Parent and Parenting magazines you'll notice that the overwhelming majority (almost 100%) of their contributing writers are women, and I've heard from several credible sources that, unless you're a doctor or some kind of parenting expert, it's tough to get published with them as a man. (*Update* But that's not always the case as talented journalist Aaron of the dad blog "Daddy Files" proves with his upcoming article in Parents.) One the surface, this would present a double standard of sorts--one that I believe is carrying over to the Mommy/Daddy Blogging arena.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not out to malign Babble or any of these other media sources. After all, they're are trying to cater to a demographic made up largely of mothers. However it would be nice to have a little male representation given that dads are more involved in the parenting process than ever before.

PS. I probably shouldn't have done this, but I went to the Babble site and nominated myself as a Dad Blogger. I guess I saw it as a form of signing a petition meant to get Babble's attention. I did go and vote for a mommy blogger to make up for it because there are some fabulous moms on the list, but I had to wonder what would happen if every dad blogger I could think of "signed" the petition by adding themselves to the list. Somebody's got to be the first guy hired to wait tables at Hooters.


I Can't See Dead People, But I Can See This

So I've been trawling bookstores to make sure I'm not in a M. Night Shyamalan movie. Nope. I can't see dead people, but I did see this.

Uh, and yeah, that's Danny's book. I convinced the assistant manager to place a couple copies next to his since we are in the same blogging niche. There were only five copies so I had them put a couple in the parenting section too since that's who the book's being marketed toward. (Those are a couple little marketing tricks I've learned along the way - being next to a slue of General biographies on MacArthur's makes someone as infinitesimal as me sort of hard to find.)

Thanks to all of you who emailed me about finding copies in your stores. Like I said Sugar Milk's distribution is limited so I'm not sure who's carrying it or not, but once it gets to 500 sales, more stores will have it. Don't know where were at in relation to that, but it's got to be close. I've received nearly 200 emails, tweets, FB messages, etc from people telling they already gotten their copies.

That's been a bit overwhelming, but I sincerely thankful. And special thanks to those of you who have written reviews either on your blog or on (the Amazon ones, even if a couple lines, boots the books ranking - hint, hint.)

Seriously though, I can never express my thanks enough to all of you who have been so supportive of me through this process.

One more note. I'll be with my boys all next week for spring break, which means I'll be away from the blogging world during that time. naturally we're very much looking forward to it since we haven't seen each other since Thanksgiving. With that, I'll sign off by wishing you all a Happy Easter Holiday.

Don't forget to check out the great people at DadBlogs and Fatherhood Friday.

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