Like Father Like Daughter, Not

 Clare graduates with a master’s degree in another eight weeks.  Seven days after that, she plans to run her first half-marathon, and I intend to be there, if only to cheer her on.

My daughter runs, I bike.  She listens to country and western, I don’t (with the exception of banjo virtuoso Earl Scruggs).  She’ll always try a craft beer, I’m more interested in what might be called craft sodas.  She loves hot yoga, I’d rather do sit-ups and push-ups.  She hated grade school, I loved it.  She loved high school and is a proud alum of Elmhurst College.  I hated high school and consider myself a couldn’t-care-less DePaul University graduate.  Yet we both live and die with the Chicago White Sox.

In the end, that’s more than enough.