“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.”
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.”
Dear Malin Reese, A couple of Monday’s ago we were having an uneventful night until you decided to show your vagina to the public. We’ll
To my kids- It’s Father’s Day. I’ve taken a break from scouring every room of the house in search of your shoes to write you
To my kids- I’ve written to you about outrage. “We live in an outrage vacuum. Our angers are many, but they materialize and disappear like
One of the most important things I’ll attempt to impart to you as a father is to love your enemies.
I write this next part with my jaw endearingly clenched, my nostrils affectionately flaring, and my stomach turning with fondness.
I love Kobe Bryant.