Did you ever witness the ever-familiar scene of a dad in a pool stretching out his hands for his son to jump into them? I've found myself poolside several times watching this very event unfold and the same things seem to come to mind. "Why is it so hard for him to jump? He's right there. If his arms are stretched out any farther, they'll turn into limp pool noodles floating in the water." I try to imagine what is going through their minds. If I'm the dad, I probably start off enthusiastic, encouraging him with confidence, boosting courage-injecting words to help him leave the edge. After a while though, I might feel a little hurt. I'd start asking myself, "Why won't he trust me? Does he really think I'll miss him or let him drown?" I'd start backtracking to moments where I might have let him down or missed him before. And then I try to imagine what the boy is thinking. He's probably thinking about all the air in between where he
...because life is worth writing about.