I recently filed for divorce, which is too bad; in my opinion it's too easy for people to just walk away from a marriage when things get the least bit uncomfortable or inconvenient.
I don't mean to sound like the proud papa, but these pictures don't really capture just how cute he is. I mean, these are kind of goofy, but I like goofy. Of course, it goes without saying he's really smart and good and kind, too.
He's such a good kid; for example, we had half a tree blow down in our yard, and he helped haul the branches away as we cut them off. I'm glad he's around, because he lessens my depression.
The family that produced me
On the plus side, this marriage produced a perfect boy named Fletcher; it means "maker of arrows." I just liked the way it sounds; it's not like a family name or anything, although his middle name is. This is him being goofy whilst mom tries to take his picture; he kind of tends to be a ham. I think he was teasing her here. Naming him was a contentious matter; Laurie didn't seem to want to be involved, for instance, and now people ask if we named him after the Chevy Chase "Fletch" character. No, of course not. I never call him Fletch; it's always Fletcher.
And here he is again, posing in front of a mirror, as a (seemingly drunken) swashbuckler (with a plastic samuri sword) for Halloween '97. I think he was also wearing his tap shoes; he wanted to be Michael Flatley (according to Bono of the popular musical combo U2, Homer Simpson is the real Lord of the Dance) for a while. His mom thought the faux chest hair was pretty funny. He's not really wearing lipstick, although it sure looks like it in this picture. I can't tell if he's got his mom's lips, or mine; he's got my eyes, but her eye color.
I'd wanted his middle name to be his mom's last name (she didn't take my name when we got married, which'll probably save her some money on checks and stuff like that now the twain has been rent asunder) to kind of lend a sense of familial history, but she was adamantly against that because (at the time, and presumably still) she didn't like her family very much and wanted to keep her son as distanced from it as possible without actually keeping him entirely from it. In light of that, it's interesting she didn't take my name. Hmmm...
I have thousands (well, not literally, but a lot; boxes and boxes, anyway) of pictures like these. Halloween '98 he wanted to be both Thomas the Tank Engine and Simba the Lion King at the same time; it turns out he was Bugs Bunny, and didn't do much trick or treating anyway. So now we've got an unused Thomas face his mom made, and a Simba costume she bought.
Okay, I can't resist; here's another one, this time he's looking pretty crazed, a sort of quasi (sort of quasi, yeah, I know) proto zoot-suiter. That's actually a hat from a Sherriff Woody (from the movie Toy Story) costume; I don't think it fits any more. Don't you want to just shower him with affection? I sure do.
My siblings
Fletcher's Chicken
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since September, 1998