Musings of a Punk Rock Father

The other day I told Melanie that her brain is like a Brawny paper towel, and mine is more like the other leading brand. She remembers so many things, like important dates, my pants' size, pizza toppings I like, who starred in what movie. I, on the other hand, can barely be counted on to remember my car keys, never mind where I put them the night before.

I wish I had a better memory. I try hard to remember to do nice things for her, and to clean up after myself, and to consider her needs, but sometimes I just plain forget. And it's not because I'm not thinking about her, because I am. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in doing something nice for her, that instead of thinking about what she would like, I think about what I would like if I were her and I do that.