This little park down the street is so neat. At any given time, you’ll find people strolling, tossing balls to puppies, napping on blankets, practicing yoga, fishing, pushing giggling babies in swings, tossing bread to geese, barbecuing at the pavilion, walking hand in hand… it’s just an idyllic little place.   

On one hand, I love things like this. Norman Rockwell-type scenarios that speak to the better part of who we can be, who we strive to be. Makes me so happy. But then there’s reality. The Family Guy scenario. The cold, hard truth of who we really are. And that can be freaking hilarious. Take this evening, for example. Tanner and I were headed home after picking him up from a school event when he suddenly broke the silence with, “I don’t want to get old.” When I asked why, he said, “I was telling Drew earlier: man, you gotta be careful who you marry. Because, dude, that’s it. Not only do you have to live with them for fifty years, you have to not want to kill them. They’re all you’ve got. It’s not like you’re gonna wanna find someone new when you’re, like, seventy.” 

 Nice, Tanner. I guess everyone’s family resides somewhere between Norman Rockwell’s muse and Seth MacFarlane’s.