We tried so hard to make things better for our kids

that we made them worse.

For my grandchildren, I'd like better. I'd really like

for them to know about hand me down clothes and

homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches.

I really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and

that you learn honesty by being cheated.

I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn

and wash the car.

And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car

when you are sixteen.

It will be good if at least one time you can see

puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.

I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you

believe in, I hope you have to share a bedroom with

your younger brother. And it's all right if you

have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but

when he wants to crawl under the covers with you

because he's scared, I hope you let him.

When you want to see a movie and your little brother

wants to tag along, I hope you'll let him.

I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your

friends and that you live in a town where you can do

it safely.

On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope

you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away

so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as

your Mom. If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad

teaches you how to make one instead of buying one.

I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.

When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn

to add and subtract in your head.

I hope you get teased by your friends when you have

your first crush on a girl, and when you talk back to

your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your

hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.

I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't

like it. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope

you realize he is not your friend.

I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your

Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle.

May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the

holidays. I hope your mother punishes you when you

throw a baseball through your neighbor's window

and that she hugs you and kisses you at Christmas time

when you give her a plaster mold of your hand. These

things I wish for you - tough times and disappointment,

hard work and happiness. To me, it's the only way to

appreciate life.

Written with a pen. Sealed with a kiss. I'm here for

you. And if I die before you do, I'll go to heaven and

wait for you.