My dad looked a lot like Fred Flintsone. Grumpy and owly, Black hair, cut like a square, family man, father…
I resemble Homer Simpson. Overweight, bald. Alternatively protected by the Gods, but often the butt of their rude practical jokes.
Then I thought of my daughter. And I began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Thinking of her only brings pain. But.. in this?
Astounding. I’ll be damned. She wouldn’t see it, but from my perspective it’s all humour and love.