True, they deny me sleep, and can be rather noisy, and always want a bite of my ice cream, and sometimes bump into me while I'm drinking coffee and spill it on me, and they seem to have a remarkable ability to distribute a huge amount of stuff all over the house in a remarkably short amount of time but no corresponding ability to re-concentrate it back where it came from, and they're sort of expensive to maintain, and they want to grow their hair out but don't want to brush it, and they refuse to believe the dog doesn't like to be sat on, and if the cat's hissing, that's bad, and no, breakfast does not include a dessert course, but—I have to say—those kids are pretty cute, and I wouldn't trade them for anything.*
Happy Father's Day to all my fellow padres. (And thanks to the famille for my lovely new cocktail shaker and other sundry goodies.)
* Except when they're really bad.