Second fiddle

I'm used to being second fiddle.

When I was in business school I only had one child and I was already the third most popular member of my family on campus.

Katie is the real blogger in the family. People weep as they read her prose. I call her the Blogner, because she is to blogs what Wagner was to the opera. My blog is best when it is linked to hers. Like my life.

Mason is the most popular fella in the family, though Porter is gaining on him. Saigon cyclo-riders think I'm pretty popular though. They are always waving to me. Here's an example.



Porter is definitely tougher than me. He base jumps. I'm the landing pad.

Madison is smarter. Way smarter. And a better swimmer. And she can make my back hurt when we ice skate together, and then just keep on skating.

Bryn is more graceful. She can stand on her head. I can only compete if I hold on with my tippy toes on the ceiling in the basement.

Molly is more angelic. She screams way louder to. And she hugs my legs harder than my legs can hug back. Even though they want to.

Lucy is more serene and has more friends. She's got me figured out. With nary a word she can convince me to hold her and bounce her and make her laugh. She's not unique that way though. I have four little girls that have the same ability. The older ones forget how to do it without talking though, which makes it far less effective.

They are all a lot more funny than I am. Mason taught Bryn who taught Madison who taught Porter who is teaching Molly. I think he's teaching her quite a few things.

I'm a second fiddle. But I'm still the dad. One hip dad.