An Open Letter to the Writers of Castle
(that will never be seen by a writer of Castle)

At the end of the show tonight it was all I could do to not scream, “I got it!!! I see what you did there!! BRAVO!”

I have been watching and waiting to see how you would get Beckett back to New York – back to where she “belongs” – and tonight you did just that. I couldn’t figure out how you would get her back without compromising the character. . surely you wouldn’t allow her to make a decision that broke her moral code. You couldn’t make it about Castle . . . that cheesy choice would fly in the face of who you’ve written Beckett to be and who Castle fell in love with. I’ve been waiting to see if you would finally compromise and sacrifice good writing to satisfy the impatient fans who just want things to stay the same . . . you didn’t.

All the reasons I love Castle. . . tonight wrapped them all up in a bow and threw them at us. A glorious, well-written package. Thank you for being willing to let your characters hurt. Thanks for staying true to your characters. Thank you for making us laugh. Thank you for writing in such a way that every Monday night I am eager for another episode and dreaming of the story I could write one day. That’s good stuff.

Something happened today that I honestly never thought would happen. 

KB and Bubba were invited to a birthday party this afternoon and Honey was sweet enough to come to the school to take them.  The plan was that I would stay and get a couple last things done at work while he delivered the kids to the ToyTyme Party Room.

I was waiting with the kids on the playground and when Honey arrived we chatted about his trip to the doctor this morning.  Little was walking over toward us and so I used the old tried-n-true method of spelling the words I didn’t want her to understand.  I said, “Honey, I was thinking y’all could have a special bit of time and maybe walk down to the c.a.r.o.u.s.e.l.”  I spelled it fast.  I wasn’t sure Honey was going to catch it (he usually makes me spell things twice) but I wasn’t even considering my daughter would understand.  As Honey was saying, “yeah, that could be good, ”  Little was saying, “Did you mean the carousel? Are we going to ride the carousel, daddy?” 

Wow.  What might have really ticked off the average parent was a mind-numbing moment for me.  I don’t think it has even crossed my mind as a possibility that my special-brained little one would ever get to a point that a quickly spelled word would be deciphered.  Here she was. . . getting after it with that super special brain.  Isn’t God sweet and surprising? Sweet to let us see Him at work in tiny things and surprising as to just what those things will be.

I think I might need to regroup and start dreaming bigger again.