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 […]
September 10, 2013
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 […]
July 14, 2013
Son, parents love to tell parents-to-be to get ready because everything changes when you have kids. Well, duh. Raise your hand if you thought you could bring a baby home from the hospital, set the quiet little bundle in the corner next to the keg and go help the band finish setting up. I thought […]
June 23, 2013
At 12 years-old, I was sitting in front of our black and white television trying to keep a little white blip from getting past a little white line. If I turned the knob to the right, my line went up; if I turned it to the left, my line went down. Every time the blip […]
June 9, 2013
Listen, son, let’s be clear about this: your job as my son is to make me feel better about myself by being the kid I wished I had been. You’re supposed to make up for all my youthful shortcomings as I re-live my youth vicariously through you. See, you are my “If I could do […]
October 9, 2013
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