Read, My Son, Read

Last week I cleaned out my office library and shipped a couple of boxes of books off to Half-Priced Books. Naturally, once I had some extra money in my pocket from the sale, I purchased more books.

I was tooling around the bookstore when, suddenly, I turned down an aisle and saw the title big as life: The History of Farting, by Benjamin Bart. Wow, I thought to myself. Perfect reading material for my fifteen year old son. And, of course, I had to read it, too.

I picked up a copy and took it to the checkout aisle. The guy at the cash register cast a suspicious glance my way as if to ask: "You're not doing this now are you?"

I shot him a return look that said, "Even as we speak!"

When I showed my son the book that night, he actually gave me a hug. I was his hero! Now he is reading this book AND the Bible (yes, Logan does read his Bible . . . he's in the gospel of Matthew currently, I think). Holy, Moly . . . what a combination.

Now, on a final note about this title, I really think Bart's book has little to do with history. Much of it focuses upon tricks and techniques, and I know my son can't wait to try some of it out with his friends. He'll be the hit of the party. And who knows, he might even brag a bit on his old man. It's not every boy who has such a loving and thoughful father.