. . . and then there was pickle.

My daughter is a superhero, or maybe a professional wrestler – but I know she is definitely larger than life.

I too suffer from the delirium that The Pickle is going to be the awesome balance of Mozart and Einstein with just enough of a touch of The Williams Sisters to land her in her Ivy League school’s athletic hall of fame to go along with her combined music and academic scholarships.

I know all of this is going to happen – because she can hold her head up so well, and is already so alert and interactive.

It should be obvious to everyone that meets her that it is only a matter of time before the worship, accolades, and envy of the world will befall her accordingly due to her superior character, talent, and moral fortitude.

I know some day she is going to disappoint me and the world is going to be as cruel as it has been to all of us, but for right now I am clinging to the amazing potential of her life – because right now, anything is possible. You can’t tell me that she’s not going to be the first woman president. You can’t prove me wrong when I say that she can do anything – because for this one moment – it’s true.

And that is the amazing thing about this brief moment, and why we are now working out superpowers, costumes, and names. . . because anything is possible.

Pickle’s Papa