The end is near.

I am sitting here staring at this picture of the family at Disney World from like 8 years ago, and as I look at it, I notice how cute the little ones were back then and realize I actually miss when they were young. Then I get this strange feeling inside. I want to go upstairs and hug my kids.

Now being the rebellious, young teenagers that they are, I am sure I would get a look that is usually reserved for a something like vomit. What are you doing dad? But where did the urge come from? These days I want to slap them 3 stooges style upside their head every once in a while. Ok, ok, I love them to death and I really don't want to smack 'em, but I do, you know what I mean? In an instant I see the end, that day when they are off to college, or moved out of the house. And they're gone. I am going to be a basket case I think.

So as much as they piss me off, don't do what they're told, come home with a D or an F, demand things around the house, make me drive them all over town, and generally make my life a more stressful than it needs to be, I am going to try and show them every day, from now until the day they are gone, that I love them. Be it a hug, or a smile, or a cheer at a basketball game. They'll still be held accountable for their actions, but a hug beats giving them $20's all the time.