WMF Photo Contest Part V: Arts, Crafts, Hugs, and Cuddles

Over the last couple years, I’ve developed several fairly large, persistent sources of guilt.

I’m not talking about normal guilt, like knowing I should really floss more. That I should do a better job separating out my recyclables.

That’s just low-grade background guilt. A faint misting of guilt. Even the constant feeling that I should be a more patient, understanding father is hardly more than a drizzle compared to the near bottomless wells of guilt I’ve discovered in the last several years.

Fo...