They’re not here to make me feel better. They’re here to help my son.
They’re not here to make me feel better. They’re here to help my son.
This isn’t Rocket Scientry.
His death doesn’t feel like part of some lesson. It just feels unfair.
Keeping his iPad away for the entire final day of Spring Break sounded crazy to everyone, including me, but it had to be done.
Fireworks don’t go off for great parental achievements. There are no major awards to be handed out.
He’s not being rude. He’s being him. If you’re patient, though, he’s fantastic.
I may have helped, but his successes were about him doing it, not me teaching him.
In the end, I’m proud to say, no tables were flipped.
I don’t even know how we escaped. I’m surprised we’re not still playing that game today.
In this context, I barely even know what “noob” means.
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