Et Tu, Kelli?

Deep grief consumes my soul. My daughter … my only daughter … just announced on her blog that she is giving up soda (aka: pop.) Her reasons are immaterial. She has broken her father’s heart. No more father/daughter carbonation-fests. No more “accidental” belching contests.

True, she says it is for health reasons. For increased energy. (Give up caffeine for increased energy? That’s a one way ticket to coma-ville!) For weight loss. (She weighs like … 115 lbs in the rain if she’s wearing a backpack filled with 2 liter bottles of Mtn. Dew.) And don’t think for a nano-second that she’ll give the old heave-ho to Starbucks. Oh, no. I’m totally convinced that she’ll still down the chocolate (God bless you, Hershey.) So hopefully she’ll live. But life will never be the same.

And so I’m taking applications. I want to add a daughter to my family. She must be at least a teenager. I will consider 20-somethings. Married is no problem. You just have to be willing to remain caffeinated. No, I’m not dumping Kelli. Never. And she will still be my favorite daughter of all time. I’ve always told her that if God were to allow me to design my own daughter the result would look just like her. Nothing has changed. My design-o-daughter would still look exactly like Kelli … only caffeinated.

I must go buy Kleenex now. The tears will not stop flowing …