Surprises The hardest part about life, I think, is waiting. Despite all the time-saving techniques and gadgets that man has come up with over the course of our history, we've never really cured our own impatience. We still want things faster and better, and then faster and better isn't good enough.

My father and I used to go shooting beavers when I was younger. I loved going. We never really talked or anything, but that's how my father and I were. We could sit there in perfect silence, listening to the wind shuffle its way through the bushes, watching the water for the slightest ripple. He had a great shot but he always let me shoot even though it meant I would probably miss. I never actually stole my father's shooting skill until I started going out with the rifle alone. Now I wish that we could just go out shooting together, just to sit in silence for hours, and spend time with him.

I remember one Sunday afternoon when I was in grade nine my dad and I went to Canadian Tire for something or other. I ended up wandering over to the electronics section to look at CD players. Since I had a dozen CDs already, it made sense that I would finally buy something to play them on. The cheapest thing they had was still out of my allowance and summer incomes, so I made a note to buy it later.

I mowed the lawn when we got home because I had promised I would. When I was done, I went to get out of my grass-stained sweaty shorts and t-shirt and found that same CD player sitting on my bed. While I was doing my chores, my dad went out and bought it for me. I thanked him - never as much as I should have thanked him. I've had the same CD player for six or seven years. Some buttons no longer work, it makes a terribly scratchy noise with some discs, and occasionally the alarms will change or go off unexpectedly. I just can't bring myself to part with it though.  ¶ 8:29 PM