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.
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.
The more he has learned to use his communication device, the more he has been seeing it as an easy way to score pizza.
They eat cereal from between couch cushions, “miss” the potty, and put peanut butter in their pockets to save for later.
He has to know how to respect others, to the best of his ability, and interact in a way that can ensure he will never be wanting for his basic needs.
He collapses into me. Like a melodramatic actor from a 1950s stage play, he will fall into my arms while weeping over being denied a loaf of bread he tried to steal from the kitchen.
It’s easy to forget to make the memories when you’re busy running ragged into the ground.
An outburst like that is the last step of his ultimate frustration and he does it only when all other avenues of communication fail him.
He used the back of his hand to nudge the iPad back to me. It was his way of saying, “Get out here with that garbage.”
In my head, I was forever 21 and reaching middle age just didn’t seem to fit with my persona.
I want to be the fun dad, but I also want to be a good dad. It’s a delicate balance sometimes.
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