I made a little jaunt home and I started to realize something. I looked at my parents and saw things that I’d never seen before. An extra line here. A gray hair there. A slowness in their gait. Hell, my father had to rock to get up. While watching this I came to the epiphany that brought me to the title of this post. They’re going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it.

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I’m very sure that God just sits on his cloud and thinks of fun things to do. You know, create wars, watch childbirth, make people fart in elevators. Then I see this and know he’s partying like Beyonce while he hits his Douglas.

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