I want to tell you a story . . .

So in the course of my not-writing blog posts, my wife and I decided to host a foreign exchange student. This is something we had talked about for a long time, but life always seemed to get in the way of our actually doing of it. We’ve realized, however, that there’s never a perfect time to do a thing, so we just decided to do it now. We couldn’t be happier with the decision but, that said, this is all table setting to the point at hand. Which is that I have this strange desire to share stories with our student from our lives in the past, how we grew up, how the world was before she was alive—or at least our sense of the world—what events shaped us, how things seem now to us in comparison. We are a species of storytellers, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does in a way. All of sudden there was this urge to share that hadn’t had reason to surface before. It’s fun and funny all at once. I’m glad for it. I just wish I wish I were a better storyteller.