This isn’t going to be anything meaningful, just a brief observation and perhaps a shout out to all the other parents of small boys out there. Lately, I’ve noticed that my son has exactly two volume settings: “Low” and “Ear-shattering”. He seems to prefer “Ear-shattering”. A lot. He’s not an obnoxious kid by any stretch… Continue reading Where’s the Volume Control?
No, I’m not talking about the freakishly-scary toy from the late 80s pictured here (though, seriously – who gives that to their kid without realizing the intense amount of psychological damage it’s going to do?). I’m talking about my son, Jon. Lately, he has been attached to my leg like stretch pants on Oprah. It… Continue reading My Buddy and Me
My brother wrote a blog today about my grandfather, entitled, When the Journey’s Over. Inspired by Pop’s rather precipitous decline, it fanned into flame something that’s been lingering since Saturday. Then, when I talked to my wife on the phone this evening, she said something that turned that flame into a forest fire. “You know,”… Continue reading But What Will I Do When He’s Gone?
Crying for little to no reason at all. Mood swings. Hitting people. Screaming “NO!” at the top of his lungs. Deliberately disobeying even the smallest request. My son has officially turned into a monster. If Lady Gaga wants him, she can have him. We’re pretty sure it’s because he’s getting his final molars in. And… Continue reading My Son, The Monster
Most people wouldn’t think that tough comes in a package that looks like a Victoria’s Secret model but is sweeter than honey, but that’s okay – I know better. Not only does tough have a womanly figure, tough also has a great sense of humor, a keen sense of discernment, and some of the most… Continue reading My Wife, The Mama Bear