Your kid is watching. You can’t scream. You can’t yell. You can’t say all the bad things you’re dying to say.

Your kid is watching. You can’t scream. You can’t yell. You can’t say all the bad things you’re dying to say.
Why do I have to physically stop myself from bringing in a plate of pizza bagels and taking a seat in the circle?
Being a zany dad during lighter times makes me approachable during those heavier ones.
I would be very confused by love of all of this, if only it wasn’t for one thing.
You never realize how much of your life isn’t kid friendly until you find yourself tasked with being friendly to kids.
They know to never listen if I ask them to smell their food or accept a Hurtz Donut.
In my day, we didn’t have internet. We had prank phone calls and they were awesome.
We spend our lifetimes beating ourselves up with false memories tailored to make things seem worse.
The bizarre humor that rushes through my head is decades below my own age group and doesn’t even need an audience to spring up.