I never dreamed he’d play such a pivotal role in my home, but here he is.
They’re my song inspirations and my entire captive studio audience.
This kid is made of steel. He’s like a Batman villain.
Everyone’s jonesing for that hit of the S’mores. It’s like a town full of Wimpys, promising, “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a Snickerdoodle today.”
It’s like getting abducted by a UFO. You went into this awful experience with an absurdly difficult and disgusting task. Next thing you know, it’s 45 minutes later and you’re sitting on the floor finished, with no recollection of how you got there or what you did.
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.
People assume we are born this way. Our Dadness starts on day one.
It’s my edible nemesis and my new daily nightmare. Welcome to fatherhood, pops.
They eat cereal from between couch cushions, “miss” the potty, and put peanut butter in their pockets to save for later.
As soon as we opened the door, she became the most fragile thing in our home.