As I frantically tried to put his clothes back on, I repeated “No, no, no,” and “we don’t take our clothes off”.

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.
Let’s talk about the grass and the price of chicken and whether I saw the game yesterday. Or not. I’m good either way.
Hey, kids are happy? Yeah? Not for long. Ice cream man is here.
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.
I’ve lifted up heavy objects, taught her to ride a bike, and won more crane games than I can count. Most times I come through in the clutch when I know her eyes are watching.
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