The Price of Stupidity

I was young once. Young and stupid, just like all the other boys. Now I'm old. Old and stubborn, just like all the other men. I go to work, sit in front of towers of paper, demolish them, and go home to my beautiful wife and daughter. Women are smarter than men, it's practically a scientific fact. If I were even half as smart as my daughter when I was her age, maybe I would be able to hug her with both of my arms today. I'd like to think I've mastered the one armed hug after all these years, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like to envelope her with two loving arms instead of one. I was so stupid, thinking I could be special, thinking I could be amazing, thinking I already was. Thinking I could be anything but a stupid, snot-nosed boy with scraped knees and a sunburn, just like everyone else. What is this grandiose idea of “amazing” anyway? I'll tell you what amazing is; amazing is when my daughter took her first steps, amazing is when she said “Dad” for the first time. Amazing is when she came home and recited every single president without even stuttering for a second. That was amazing. What I did was stupid and I payed the price of stupidity with my arm.

Writing

I write sometimes. So I'll put that writing on here, sometimes.

Expect lots of fiction and not much else, short and long.