My truckload of cash was hijacked by terrorists, and a surfer is born
In a pretty standard corporate move, my company has slashed the commision pay structure in such a fashion that we now have to work twice as hard to make the same money. Sweet. There's been considerable belt tightening in the Shellen house to accomodate the cash flow slow down (or stop). In other (important) news, we now have two beautiful little tax deductions riding around in the back of our Volvo wagon. Luke Ronald Shellen was born on September 10th, 2002 and weighed in at a healthy 7 pounds, eleven ounces. Theresa performed like a champ and once again validated her doctors comment, "Some people are just really good at having babies." Jack is a great big brother and told Luke earlier this week, "I wuv you Ookie." We need to enjoy their friendship while it lasts. If Jack and Luke are anything like Jason and I they will be mortal enemies for the next 16 years or so before remembering that they are best friends. Despite the lack of sleep, I am enjoying fatherhood even more than I thought I would. There is really nothing like coming home at night and seeing two little people that you created, who are thrilled to see you, and want nothing more than for you to get on the floor and play with them. Just when I was starting to think that I had grow up, I'm finding out that I'm still a kid. I really can't wait for the day when I can throw the boards on the roof and the boys in the car and go paddle out together at a (gentle) point break. Theresa has expressed some concern about the young age that I'd like to get the boys in the water, but I think it's really important that they start young. I harbor a mild bit of resentment that my Dad lived and surfed in Waikiki in the Sixties and never taught me to surf. I won't make my kids wait until they are 14 to surf for the first time like I did. It's just not an option.