The Freedom to Make One's Own Mistakes

When I left the Dogwood Festival for the ER last week, I failed to get this up on Dogwood Girl first. It is too good to pass by, though.

I am not a fan of The Grateful Dead. All that noodly jam stuff drives me cuckoo. So, it was funny that my best friends from college were Grateful Dead fans. We still joke around about it. I think that they will find this humorous.

I go to the Dogwood Festival with the family. Tiller and I sit and watch the dog frisbee competition, while Todd takes Rollie to get his face painted. Five bucks and the kid gets to pick the theme. Hundreds of choices.

He chooses the stupid Grateful Dead Steal Your Face thingie. Then I have to walk around the Dogwood festival with this hippie three-year-old, people possibly thinking that I chose it for him. It is a testament to my love for him that I would even hold his hand in public.

I guess you have to let kids make their own choices, and the irony of parenthood is that even when they make the choices you don't want them to make, you still stand by them.