I want to give lectures about what I was forced to call meals as a child and how we don’t get to choose what we want to eat. But, alas, I’m tired. So I plop the Eggos in the toaster and everyone enjoys their morning.
I want to give lectures about what I was forced to call meals as a child and how we don’t get to choose what we want to eat. But, alas, I’m tired. So I plop the Eggos in the toaster and everyone enjoys their morning.
As I frantically tried to put his clothes back on, I repeated “No, no, no,” and “we don’t take our clothes off”.
The days of smoking in the mall, downing an Orange Julius, and watching Dr. Huxtable examine women in his basement have all come to an end.
People assume we are born this way. Our Dadness starts on day one.
Don’t tell me what cool is. I know what cool is.
It’s my edible nemesis and my new daily nightmare. Welcome to fatherhood, pops.
It was normal. It was natural. It was perfect. That’s the truth.
The days of secret parent book-readers, class cupcake parties, and one teacher to remember for the year are over. She will never have them again. That chapter closed at the start of the summer.
They eat cereal from between couch cushions, “miss” the potty, and put peanut butter in their pockets to save for later.
It’s easy to forget to make the memories when you’re busy running ragged into the ground.
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