I spent a surprising amount of my childhood hoping to be my dad when I grew up. Oh, I didn't want to be a boy or anything -- having two brothers pretty much dispelled any mystique of masculine superiority -- but I did want my dad's job. It looked like a pretty sweet deal to me: a little telling people what to do, a little dressing up, a little singing, and a lot of reading, writing, and being at home when other people's dads weren't. Yes, he did have to work on Sundays, but then again he was home at least one day during the week to make up for it.
Read the rest here...
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Happy Father's Day
Labels:
children's lit,
family life,
literary mama
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Nice piece. And your teaser here is priceless!
Post a Comment