I was admonished yesterday by my friend Ben for overusing the word "super" as it relates to individual members of my family.
In blog posts, I've often referred to my wife as super-wife, to my daughter as super-daughter and occasionally super-pumpkin and my son as super-son. I don't do it all the time, but I do it often.
I'm excited about my family. They're "super" as a group and they're "super" as individuals. I've done some neat stuff in my life, met some outstanding people and been to some unusual places. It would be an impressive list by most people's standards.
But, when I'm sitting back in my easy chair drinking my Biggby's Traversey City Cherry coffee, what makes me smile the most is my family. Yes. Yes and yes. Especially my super-wife and my super-kids, including my super-son-in-law and my super unborn grandchild.
And, I believe in a super-God who has a super-Son too. And, I can get excited about both in a super-sized way.
For any of my friends who are concerned about my enthusiasm for using the word "super" as it relates to my family, I have a super-suggestion. Metamucil. They need to loosen up.