I took Anna to a new park yesterday. It was a big park with lots of room to run and play, but the playground was a bit disappointing: small, with only a couple of slides and next to no shade. Instead of the usual wood chips, the area around the play structure was filled with sand. Granted, sand is soft, but it also gets hot in direct sunlight.

As we walked up to the play area, Anna sat down to take off her sandals.

"The sand might get hot," I said. "You'd better leave those on."

"I don't want sand in my shoes."

"Ok, but your feet might get hot."

She pulled off her sandals and stepped into the sand.

"They're not hot."

"OK." I picked up her sandals. "I'll hold these in case you need them."

She played for about two minutes, then suddenly she started crying and ran over to me.

"You were right daddy. My feet are hot."

I picked her up and brushed off her feet. They were just a little bit red—not too bad. I helped her put her sandals back on.

"Do you want to go play some more?"

"No, I want to go home."

I felt awful. Her playtime was ruined. Later that day, though, it dawned on me: That was the first time I ever heard Anna say "You were right, Daddy."

Anna's at that age where she disagrees with everything I say. For example, many times when we come home from playing, Anna will dawdle a bit at the bottom of the stairs. "Anna," I'll say. "We need to go upstairs."

"No, we need to go downstairs."

"Anna our apartment is upstairs. We need to go up." You'd think by now I'd know not to try logic with a four year old.

"Our apartment is downstairs."

"No, Grandma's apartment is downstairs. We need to go upstairs." At this point, I think I've bested her, but no . . .

"I want to go to Grandma's." Game, set, and match to Anna.

It's only going to get worse. Soon enough she'll be a teenager, and she'll never agree with me. So I need to savor these words while I can:

"You were right, Daddy."

I read a beautiful article today by The Reverend Mpho A. Tutu, the daughter of Archbishop Desmond Tutu. It is a wonderful tribute to both her famous and extraordinary father and her considerably less famous but equally extraordinary husband. Their common bond—they are both fathers.

One line in particular stayed with me:

"I have seen that, in some ways, it is the child who makes the father, even as I know that the father shapes the child."

It is the child who makes the father, and I know that now from my own experience. Helping to raise Anna has shaped the person that I am in ways I didn't know were possible. My transformation began the first time I held her (as I describe in my book):

I looked down at Anna. She was gazing up at me with her big brown eyes. I had read in many books that I would love this baby more than I’d ever thought was possible. I also read that those feelings don’t come right away for every dad, and not to be concerned if they didn’t.

“I love you so very, very much,” I said, just getting the words out. The emotions were immediate and intense. I knew at that moment I would do anything; give anything, my own life included, for this little girl in my arms.

I pulled myself together, and continued: “Anna, I want you to know that there is nothing you can’t do; nothing you can’t be if you want to, and don’t listen to anyone who tells you different.”

My first fatherly advice: not that she understood what I was saying. She just kept gazing up at me.

The transformation began that day and it has been going on ever since. I've taught her, guided her, from time to time I've had to reprimand her, and all the while as I've watched her grow I have grown too.

We've both got a long way to go and it's going to be an incredible journey.

Anna is a very smart girl and says some very clever, funny, and sometimes touching things. I've been writing these "Anna Quotes" down for a while, and since I've started using Twitter I've been tweeting a few as well. Here are some of my favorites from the last few months:

• Answering her play phone - in one breath: "Hello, hi, what's up? OK, bye."
• To me, suggesting we get her mom: "Let's go look for your wife."
• After breaking a wooden doll at my mother-in-law's house: "I think she's broken, Grandma. She dropped her head off."
• In clothes she didn't like - with hands on hips: "I can't go out like this!"
• When the priest enters the church at the beginning of Mass: "Here comes Church Man."
• Describing her favorite parts of the mall play area: "The lighthouse and the train are the most funnest of all."
• And in reference to my mom - who passed away last fall: "Grandma Dolly is looking down on me and watching me play."

That last one got to me.

I remember those words from my childhood: "We are experiencing technical difficulties, please stand by." The words were usually accompanied by a test pattern, and hopefully after a few minutes the station would "resume regularly scheduled programming."

Well despite our technological advances over the last thirty years, we still experience "technical difficulties" from time to time. At least the graphics have improved:

Aw, isn't he cute? The Fail Whale, as he's commonly known, shows up whenever Twitter is over capacity. Expect to see more of the big guy during the World Cup.

As adorable as the whale is, I don't quite get the accompanying message. "Too many tweets?" Yes, I know that means too many Twitter users at once, but the picture suggests the opposite problem—not enough "tweets."

"More birds! We need MORE BIRDS!"

Apparently, Goodwill's are a great place to find used bibles. Last week, I found a Revised English Bible with Apocrypha in hardback for $5 and yesterday I found a New English Bible with Apocrypha, also hardback and in very good condition, for $4. So I can check one more bible off my list.

As for the others I'm wanting to get, only the Douay Rheims is old enough to find it's way to a Goodwill, yet despite the numerous KJVs I find at every store I stop in, I have yet to stumble across the traditional language Catholic equivalent.

The English Standard Version is very recent. Oxford just published an edition with the Apocrypha last year, so the chances of one finding it's way to a used book store of any kind are small. The Orthodox Study Bible is only two years old, so it's also unlikely I'll find one used.