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Sharing is Crying
“No, Buddy, I just told you, your sister is reading that,” I said, prying the coveted Elmo’s ABC Book from his hand, prompting an eloquent baby cuss reply. Sighing heavily, I returned the pillaged book...
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Statistics Reveals That I Hate It
I’m fairly confident I will look back on this semester as The Semester That Shall Not Be Named, and my reasons for this are statistically based. And that is because, against my better judgment, I...
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The Easter Visor
“You don’t have an Easter bonnet for her?” my mother gasped. My wife had just unveiled the dress she’d bought our daughter to wear for Easter, but apparently it was an incomplete ensemble. “Um, no?” my...
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The Stay-At-Homestretch
...in which Our Hero announces His retirement from stay-at-home fathering to the tune of an anthropomorhic mariachi band.
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The Tap-Dancing Butt Crack
The warm water ran down my back, washing away 36 hours of sweat and grime. I systematically defunkified each of my body’s nether regions with my extremely manly loofah and inhaled the warm, misty scent...
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The Queen of Everything
My mother was at our house the other day playing with my son, who was squashing every imaginative contribution Grandma made to the story they were acting out with the Twins’ new Bubble Guppies playset...
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One Year Ago (The Creation Myth)
“Did you see that link I sent you today?” my wife inquired, placing a bottle of freshly-pumped breast milk in the fridge. I looked up from the boob-funnels I was washing in the sink as bewildered as...
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I Can’t Hear Myself Think
I used to laugh at my mother. It would begin with her getting on the phone with a customer service representative. (Keep in mind that this was back in Ye Good Olde Days before Al Gore singlehandedly...
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Raisin Hell
My daughter spiked her half-eaten apple on the floor like a football, slid her Sippy Cup off the high-chair tray as if it were a shuffleboard, and with finality, proclaimed, “Duh!” I don’t remember...
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Picking Up the Duckie
If there’s one thing I learned while growing up, it’s that–in the words of the great philosopher Hoots the Owl—“You gotta put down the Duckie if you wanna play the saxophone.” I’ve since devised...
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