I can say with certainty that there are some unique benefits when you are my child:  They are allowed to watch cartoons at any point during the day, expletives are allowed as long as they are in another language (points given for Chinese curse words), cookies (in moderation) and cold milk are a food group of their own, no brussels sprouts will EVER appear on their plate, I have the tools and childlike imagination to build most anything that can be dreamt up, big game and zombie hunting are allowed in the back yard, sword fights with foam batons are good clean fun, mohawks and blue hair are just fine, and I will trick out a BMX bike like a hustler will pimp out a Caddy.  Apparently, I am an overgrown man-child with credit…  I am constantly amazed that my sweet wife both puts up with my antics and is contemplating procreating with me .

My son knows all the benefits of “Dad’s house” and this summer we worked on a wooden boomerang, build stuff in the shop, and sniped at dinosaurs with a pellet rifle perched atop his Wimbledon Cup-worthy bench rest that I built for him last year.  He is a dino-slaying machine!