Dear Dad

Things Dad would not like:
Riding our bikes in the rain. "Put your bike back in the garage. It'll rust if it rains!"
Bare feet at the construction site. "Put some steel-toed boots on when you're in the kitchen. A knife might drop."

Things Dad might like:
On Saturday, our planned excursion was a trip to the soccer field to play the administrators and kids from the local Youth Union. In the second half, my shin collided with one of the boys, and after I had been playing for a few minutes, I looked down and saw the nastiest bump on my shin. I completely freaked and ran off the field. Hoang Anh compared it to a guava at first, a second knee once the swelling had gone down, a mountain later that day, and a hill the next day. She kindly wished that it wouldn't become a valley the day after. If Dad were there, he would have fixed it first and then laughed at me for getting so upset. It was hardly hurting, but every time I looked down and saw that lump, I started hyperventilating again. Not my best.

Our Thursday night dinner conversation revolved partly around the fact that my dad is the only follower on all my friends' blogs. They like your picture, by the way. One of them also thought you were from Alaska.