I left high school with a 1.9 GPA, which I’m told isn’t especially good. College was a challenge, but, if I may modestly proclaim, I did well. I went to a junior college where, much to 
everyone’s surprise I was graduated top of my class. I understand the big frog, small pond concept, but still I was pretty tickled. At graduation, I was called up three or four times to receive one award or another. The best part was that my parents – who only remembered my high school struggles - were there to see it. My head was about this big by the time I got home.
At home, still beaming at just how truly wonderful I really was, I played with my baby son who celebrated my achievements by dumping, squirting and dumping through his diaper. That stuff was everywhere and suddenly we both were covered head to toe. He just laughed and laughed and soon I was, too. As I stood hosing him down in the shower, I thought, “King for a day – no, not really, but king of the castle, you bet.” It doesn’t get any better.
