(Originally published on August 6, 2017 on Mental Health Safe Space.) This fetus is kicking my ass. No, literally. She’s actually kicking my ass. There I was cuddling with my wife before bed, minding my own business (I was the small spoon, because duh) and Carrie’s ever-growing belly was pressed against my butt. All of a sudden... Continue Reading →
TMI. I would say that about one in five comments I get about my writing or Facebook posts involves this critique. Too. Much. Information. Sure, the critique is usually couched within a compliment, but it’s clear that a fair number of people, even if they are generally appreciative of my writing, feel that sometimes I’m... Continue Reading →
My youngest son, age 5, casually inquired the other day if it's possible to get a different dad, specifically one who is not allergic to cats. Naturally, the response that first ran through my mind was, "Is it possible to get a different five year-old, specifically one who does not still shit his pants?" Thanks,... Continue Reading →
Papa Used to Say 