-Is that I couldn't console an 8 year old boy yesterday morning. Much as I tried, I rocked him like I hadn't since he was a toddler. I went through a box of Kleenex, drying tears that wouldn't stop coming. At times like these it sucks to be a mom. I can't explain away why one of his favorite television heroes died. I can't make it better I won't even try. Personally, I didn't much care for the tone of the program. It got under my skin, quite like Pokemon, Teletubbies, and his sister's fave "My Little Pony Tales" did before it. But my son, my little boy, learned so much from the show and the man. That can't be half bad, can it? What's bad is I couldn't ease the pain my little boy felt. What's good? I know my little boy will grow up to be a compassionate and caring human being. In part, thanks to Mr. Irwin.

I also know this, I'm a little bit glad I didn't DU yesterday...