A LETTER TO MCGEE WHEREEVER HE IS:

McGee,

For the last 10 years (you came to us when you were six), I’ve had to get up early in the morning to make sure you got out to go. Then I had to open your darn dog food, heat it in the microwave and add your dollop of yogurt, everyday except of course Sundays when we shared pancakes. When you got done I had to take you for your morning walk, clean up your poop and throw the freakin’ ball for you. Then you expected your reward of whipped cream on cracker. Then, for the love of Pete, you found it appropriate to take a nap until you heard activity in the kitchen at which point you showed up with that look: “You going out? What about me? You going to lift me into the truck?” “Oh, can you put the window down?” Follow that with “Nice ride Dad,” call me when dinner is ready and I need fresh water in my bowl.” After dinner I’m out cleaning up the yard again. That is, unless you went swimming in the pool. Then I’m needing to find a towel. By night time you’re in your doggy bed snoring. I appreciated you not climbing into my chair these past years. Guess it was a little much for a 16 year old.

By the way, little man, I’m sure going to miss you. It was a trip!

Love,

Dad