I can debate theology with M.Div’s and PhD’s.  I can argue politics in a couple of languages.  I learned martial arts to stop getting beaten by gangs, and it worked.

But my younger God-daughter looks up at me and smiles her toothless smile when I walk in the door unexpectedly, and a little tiny baby can reduce me to goo in an instant, reorder my schedule, and leave my otherwise crisp intellectual repartee reduced to baby noises and idiot grins.

And I don’t mind one bit…