Browsing All posts tagged under »parenting humor«

Son, it’s time we talked about sports…again

July 21, 2014

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  Hi folks. This post was originally published over 3 years ago when I’ve Become My Parents was still just a puppy and had about 18 subscribers. I was thinking about this post recently when my son actually agreed to go out on a tennis court with me and hit some balls. Granted, more balls […]

I’m not dead yet

June 24, 2014

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  OK, so it’s been a little while since I last posted. I know what you’re thinking but I’m not dead. If I were, I’d have all the time in the world to write posts (in between breaking rocks and applying burn cream—don’t know why, but I’ve always assumed I’d be heading south when I […]

Found my old diary and it turns out I was lame then, too

November 15, 2013

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Hi there! I haven’t pulled out an old post in a while. This one goes way back–even before I started scratching out cartoons. It was originally posted on June 28, 2011. I had been digging around a box of old stuff and came across my diary.  Have a read and just know that nothing has […]

Don’t blame me; puberty wasn’t my idea

October 9, 2013

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When I was in 7th-grade, it seemed like there were only two kinds of kids: those that were miserable, and those that made them that way. Guess which one I was. Thirty-five years later, I get to re-live 7th-grade again through your eyes, son, and I realize I was wrong: you’re all miserable.  And why […]

I think I’m in love

September 10, 2013

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Hey, son, I think I’m in love with your friend. No, not like that. Well, kind of like that. Granted, she’s 12 and I’m just a wee bit older, but it’s not that kind of love so don’t give me that look you gave Uncle Dave when he said he wanted to be a Mall […]

Beware the vengeful squirrel

July 29, 2013

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I get it: you’re scared to sleep in that room. First of all, son, they aren’t dead pet bunnies; they’re dead pet bunnies’ ashes. And the boxes are totally sealed. How evil could the ghosts of dead bunnies be, anyway? What’re they going to do, wiggle their little ghost-noses at you until you piss yourself with fear? […]

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