Finding a voice

So its Sunday night and I sit here relaxing thinking about my blog. Strange thing a blog. Apparently they are all the rage. Sort of a dear diary of sorts. I look at it. I proof read it. Change the colors. The fonts. I am the only visitor today. I have advertisements set up so that if I buy something or click something on-line, I can profit from my own shameless surfing.

But I think to myself, do I want to find a voice. I just continue to vomit scattered thoughts on the screen. I wonder, if its interesting to me, is it interesting to others? I wonder, do other parents have an inherent rage at their children when they are accidentally struck in the privates three times? Just me? I love my son more than anything in this world. However, I swear there is this Neo-Freudian/Darwinian survival thing going on. Cause I have been taking some shots to the groin. And I know my shots to the groin.

I have played sports since I could walk. I play hockey two-nights a week (goalie no-less), and I swear the most mortifying testicular trauma I have suffered has been at the hands feet and even concrete hard forehead of my son. If he were Greek I would call him Testicleese.

Still he is my joy. My laughing, smiling, ball crushing ray of sunshine that brightens all of my days.

So I will continue to seek a voice. A theme. A commentary of sorts on relevant issues. Or I will just fall back into talking about football.

Have a great week,

J