10) I love vanilla coke. Not the kind you can now by at the supermarket, but the kind only Dairy Queen can make.
So, I live in Dallas because Texas is home, warts and all. I have occasionally worried about raising my children here. I’ve worried that they won’t grow up to be tolerant, open-minded and kind. I’ve worried they will grow up to be Republicans. Occasionally, however, I get reassurance in this area from them. Last year for my son’s tenth birthday, I agreed to allow him to invite as many children as he liked to his party. This meant that for the first time, there would be children attending a party I was hosting that I had never met. It was a great party at an old fashioned roller rink and we had about thirty children there. While driving home after the party, I turned and looked at my son and said, “I didn’t know Andrew was black.” He looked at me, tilted his head ever so slightly to the left, as if contemplating some new information, and after a few seconds said, “So?”
Touché my little Native Texan. Touché.
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