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I spent five hours working on a piece for a contest entry and already had an idea
for a second contest. I planned on going through all the hoo-ha, write it, find a picture,
pick the perfect font and colors, come up with a great title, post and promote, all that
jazz. I dreamt of how sweet it would be if we could actually post more than two
lousy times a day, then let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

My six year old daughter came up and asked, "You ready to teach me how to ride?"

We got her a bicycle for Christmas but she still didn't know how to ride it. "I will
tomorrow, sweetie. Daddy's busy right now."

"That's what you said yesterday...and the day before that."

"I know but..."

With her little helmet on, she just dropped her head, turned and left before I finished.
I went back to typing.

A minute went by then my wife yelled from the kitchen, "Get your ass off that stupid
poetry site and teach your daughter how to ride that bicycle!"

Another sigh.

We went outside and within an hour she was riding like a pro. We had so much
fun, my little girl and I.

Coming back in the house, I said to my wife, "Thank you. Thank you for rescuing
me from yet another five, seven, five. Oh, how I've wasted so much of my life."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll need rescuing again here some day soon."