I love my job, i love my job, i love my job...

I repeated that mantra as my daughter and I locked horns today.

Here's what my lovely 5 year-old miscreant did today:

• Demanded her special Hello Kitty plate after her eggs were presented to her on a "regular" plate. A screaming match ensued.
• Threw sand at her brother at the beach
• Smooshed her brother's sand castles with temerity
• Talked back countless times
• Refused to share
• Was generally argumentative
• Was all-around obnoxious

However now she is asleep on the couch and looks like an angel. She also made me a bead necklace that says "DAD." What is it with girls this age? They swing so violently from love to disdain. I never had girls around growing up so this is all new to me. You ladies are a complicated species. I can't wait until she's 14. Shoot me.
Did I mention that my son was fantastic today? Little boys are like Labradors and little girls are like...aggravating.

"Hey, this is Red Rocks!"

Yes it is Bono. Thank you for stating the obvious. Sorry dear readers for my lack of productivity lately but I'm just back from my first trip to Colorado as evidenced by the photo above. I must say that being a dyed in the wool New England boy, the vastness of the whole area freaked me out a little. The sky is so big out there I felt a little exposed. Like some giant hawk might swoop down and plunge its talons into me and carry me off to its gargantuan nest high atop some remote butte. Thankfully that did not happen and I'm back here safe and sound where the roads are curvy and our snow melts by March - usually.

We stayed in downtown Denver and I must say the coolest thing about the place other than some pretty awesome brew pubs (e.g. The Wynkoop) were these bedazzled pianos that dotted the area. They had signs on them welcoming people to sit and pound out a few numbers. I also noted that none of these instruments had been defaced in any way. Clearly I wasn't in Kansas...I mean the New York Metro area any more.

Elvis Costello tells us that travel broadens the mind. I guess I feel slightly broadened but this little taste has made me thirsty for something ...um...broader.

Nantucket - Land of Funny Pants

We go to Nantucket every year. That sounds pretentious - deal with it. Just a fact. My wife's family has a house there so I'm a Nantucketer by marriage. The kids love it and it's awesome to have a place where we can walk from the house to the beach. The natural beauty is spectacular and the restaurants are top-notch. And oh by the way - I never take it for granted and I never lose sight of the fact that I couldn't afford to vacation in such a place if my generous father-in-law didn't allow us to stay in his home. That's the good news.

The bad news is the people. Or more specifically - the fashion of the (visiting) people. Welcome to the Faraway Isle where grown men wear pink pants and call it "Nantucket Red" like that makes it OK. They also sport Madras shorts with canary yellow sweaters. It's like everyone but me is adhering to The Preppy Handbook. Every time I visit I feel like I missed a memo stating that everyone should dress like a goof.

What is interesting is that the local residents of the island generally don't dress so silly. They are actually more utilitarian Northeastern (rather than Boston-Bourgeois). We're headed up there soon so I promise to come back with photographs of the local ridiculousness. Stay tuned.