It’s June 1st, 2020. A day, for many across America, that was supposed to represent a re-emergence into a post-pandemic world. A day when the
“We laid face to face in bed the other night, right after I’d picked you up from a fall you’d taken. By the way, you’ve been falling because your back legs just aren’t working anymore. We found out it’s because you have a tumor on the left side of your brain. We laid in relative silence, staring at one another while I gave your back legs a massage. This gave way to me becoming an inconsolable mess while you licked away my tears. Thanks for the assist, buddy.”
“I mean, on one hand, I get the confusion. I’m a little bit fabulous, I was wearing some pretty short swim shorts and I had a light-brown baby(you) in a BabyBjorn. In their defense, they had enough superficial fact-gathering to assume I had a husband.”
To my kids- Yesterday was gross. Very real issues were caught up in a political theatre in which every participating party had their mind made
So if I put shoes on you, and now, we’re here at your school without your shoes, where in the hell could they be?
“I threw them out the window.”
Your tiny voice took a moment to break through my exasperated parental haze.
You… did what?
“I threw my shoes out the window of the car.”
To my kids- It’s been two years since I last wrote you a letter. This website began as an attempt to for my friends and