The clouds looked like my daddy had cloud duty.

He seemed to be reminding me of my penmanship when I was in the 4th grade. I had to laugh at his reminding me of that. There were lines and scribbles and letters strewn over the sky, all of which were illegible. Look where you are now? We can read your handwriting? Yes Dad, we can and I giggled at the remembrance with him. Happy that we both seemed to survive the tumultuous journey into adulthood. I won't keep crying at the labor that I have to put into my little tribe. As Ruth always said "God bless the child..." that's got his own"

Children, I might add, are an inheritance of the Lord and the fruit of the womb is His reward.