The best way I can describe days like this is that my hair hurts.
Frustrated and pleading, “Come on. You like Jeff Wiggle. Right? It’s a Jeff doll. Yay?” Nada.
Life lessons that served me no good will serve them no good. It’s my duty, as their father, to see that.
All I want to do is spoil him, but I have to do what’s best for him.
It’s the parental curse of eternal-youth vision
There was no way I was having a heart attack. Right? I didn’t have heart attacks. Other people did.
I’m writing our life as a thriller in my brain, but it’s really more of a Disney Plus series.
Take a moment, think about your words, and then say what’s in your head. Or, even better, don’t.
We spent 20 minutes engrossed in this book he had ignored for years.
It’s adorable but also causes you to make a wincing face while eeking out a pained, “Thank you.”