Friday night. Casa Tinsley. One of our accordion style doors to the washing machine and dryer area was busted. I was trying to fix it - and doing my usual bang-up job (I'm a horrific handy-man.) It being Friday night, Boy #1 was wanting my undivded attention. I was engrossed in the project, and becoming quite frustrated by my ineptness at fixing what you would think would be a simple thing to fix.
Ethan was dancing around my feet as I tried to get the door back in its track. My Lovely Bride sensing that I was close to turning into the Incredible Hulk, said to Ethan.
"Give your father some space, he's trying to fix the door."
Ethan stopped the dancing, turned around and looked at his mom, and in a serious voice replied.
"That's not my father, that's my Daddy!
Until I BLOG again...(In your best Darth Vader voice) Luke...
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