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Grampopotamus? I get no respect.

I may have put on a few of extra pounds in the past couple of years. I’m six-two and two ten and change. The kids often joke and pat my gut asking when the baby is due. Ha ha. Yesterday, Kit came up with grampopotamus. Really? Am I that bad?

Tonight, another bout of tears and whining over homework I stepped out so Kit could solve a problem and sat, absolutely spent, with everyone the grownups on the sofa. Danny and Sugar were visiting and Danny leaned back and smiled. “I wish you were my Grampy, too!” he said in a kid’s voice.

See what I mean? No respect. (But a fair amount of good laughs)