Fact is, for all our genuflecting over them and fretting and pondering the essence of a shitty diaper at 3 in the morning, kids can be real assholes at times. For those of you without a child, and wanting one, my sincerest apologies.

Know ye something: Every time you think your kid can�t surprise/shock/amaze/dumbfound you anymore than he already has God hands you a star. When you�ve got enough collected to make up a small nighttime canopy over your head, take a beer and go sit on your patio. Hold your beer in one hand and bury your face in the other and say, �Why the hell do they keep doing this stupid shit? Why?�

I don�t know that I�ll ever get a straight answer to that.

And this rental house doesn�t even have a patio. But it does have a nighttime sky and a slew of stars, and God and I sat and had a long chat a couple of nights ago. I admired his stars.

But sometimes I wish he hadn�t been quite so generous in handing them out.

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