As a courtesy, we are sending you a copy of this letter we recently wrote your 15 year old daughter in response to a query we received from her.

Dear Ms. Cameron.

Thank you for your letter. Yes, we are pleased to report, your father's old high school is still standing and our library was able to find yearbooks dating "all the way back" to his graduation. In fact, a few teachers even remember your father, which I will get to in a moment.
In answer to your first question: In every picture extant of your father he is well shod, wearing what I believe were called "earth shoes" back then. Also, the weather here is moderate, with snow generally lasting from December until March--hardly the entire school year. Thus his descriptions of the conditions under which he "struggled" to school in the morning do, as you suggested, seem a bit exaggerated. In fact, our bus logs are (remarkably) still intact, revealing that not only was your father a registered passenger, but that his parents paid the extra ten dollars a month for door-to-door delivery.
I am sure there were days when your father was very "sharply dressed," as you state he puts it, but in every single photograph I was able to uncover he is wearing exactly the same thing: bell bottom blue jeans with white strings trailing from the edges onto the floor, horizontal rents in the knees, and no belt buckle. His T-shirt displays a message easily communicated with hand gestures. His hair hangs past his shoulders and looks as if it was exposed to a lot of wind - perhaps he rode the school bus with the window open.
As to academics and "concentrating on the basics," one must remember the times: the "basics" back then may very well have embraced some of your father's elective subjects, which included "Personal Citizenship", "Ecology", and one which apparently was called "Relevance". We have no record of what, if anything, was taught in these classes. What records we do have show that your father did indeed take Geometry, just as he claims. In fact, he took it his sophomore year, repeated it his junior year and repeated the course again his senior year - Geometry was required for graduation.
Now as to Mr. Muggins, who had your father in a class called "Problems of Modern Relationships." Mr. Muggins does not wish to dispute the claim that your father always had his homework done early, he merely wants to point out that no matter when it was done, it was always handed in late. In fact, your father sticks out in Mr. Muggins's mind as having the most outrageous excuses for being unprepared, including having to evacuate his home because it was infected with the China Syndrome.
Your father was not, sad to say, President of the Student Council. Perhaps he is confusing student government with a social group called "The Slackers," which Mr. Muggins recalls was a group of boys who sat in the hallway and made loud groaning noises whenever an attractive girl strode past. Your father was assistant vice president of the club, and, to our knowledge, is the only past member not currently serving time in a federal penitentiary.
One thing IS completely verifiable: your father's name is, indeed, carved above the door to the school. Please advise that, now that we have noticed it, we will need to have it sanded out and refinished, at a cost of approximately three hundred dollars. We would appreciate it if your father would agree to pay for the damage without having to engage lawyers.
The honor roll to which he apparently referred is not above the door, it hangs outside my office. I will leave unanswered the question as to whether his name is upon it.
Thank you very much for your letter, which we found most amusing. Be sure to tell your father hello from Mr. Muggins.

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Attention Children: The Bathroom Door is Closed.
Please do not stand here and talk, whine, or ask questions. Wait until I get out.
Yes, it is locked. I want it that way. It is not broken, I am not trapped.
I know I have left it unlocked, and even open at times, since you were born, because I was afraid some horrible tragedy might occur while I was in there, but it's been 10 years and I want some PRIVACY.
Do not ask me how long I will be. I will come out when I am done.
Do not bring the phone to the bathroom door.
Do not go running back to the phone yelling "She's in the BATHROOM!"
Do not begin to fight as soon as I go in.
Do not stick your little fingers under the door and wiggle them. This was funny when you were two.
Do not slide pennies, Legos, or notes under the door. Even when you were two, this got a little tiresome.
If you have followed me down the hall talking, and are still talking as you face this closed door, please turn around, walk away, and wait for me in another room. I will be glad to listen to you when I am done.
And yes, I still love you.
Mom

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Ever notice how a 4-year-old's voice is louder than 200 adult voices?
Several years ago, I returned home from a trip just when a storm hit, with crashing thunder and severe lightning. As I came into my bedroom about 2 a.m., I found my two children in bed with my wife, Karen, apparently scared by the loud storm. I resigned myself to sleeping in the guest bedroom that night.
The next day, I talked to the children, and explained that it was O.K. to sleep with Mom when the storm was bad, but when I was expected home, please don't sleep with Mom that night. They said O.K.
After my next trip several weeks later, Karen and the children picked me up in the terminal at the appointed time. Since the plane was late, everyone had come into the terminal to wait for my plane's arrival, along with hundreds of other folks waiting for their arriving passengers. As I entered the waiting area, my son saw me, and came running shouting,
"Hi, Dad! I've got some good news!"
As I waved back, I said loudly, "What is the good news?"
"The good news is that nobody slept with Mommy while you were away this time!" Alex shouted.
The airport became very quiet, as everyone in the waiting area looked at Alex, then turned to me, and then searched the rest of the area to see if they could figure out exactly who his Mom was.

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