This Sunday, July 1st, is the day four years ago when my life completely changed. No, not the day I got out of rehab or jail. It was the day my son was born. All of the sudden it was no more late nights out with our friends closing down bars after work. No more midnight runs to the nearby bowling alley to squeeze in a few games and a few bowling pin shaped beers. From that day on it was diaper, feed, burp, change diaper, feed more, burp, change diaper, sleep for a few hours, then start all over with a clean shirt on.
We quickly got the routine down and the few hours of sleep every night were enough for us to stay alive. The bags under my eyes were eventually replaced with extra laugh lines. The hair on my head is a different story. Not long after our son was born my first gray hair appeared on my goatee. I plucked it. Then one appeared on the side of my head so I plucked that sucker, too. They say if you pluck them more just appear. That's OK by me because at the rate my brown hairs are vanishing I would much rather have more gray hairs than no hairs at all. I already keep a nice short cut and I estimate that in about five years I'll just shave it bald - but only if I can find out how to reconfigure my wine cork shaped head by then.
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