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The Parents’ Phrase Book: A Sample of Bullies
The Parents’ Phrase Book has been out for seven months now, which is crazy, and it has been brought to my attention that I never really talk about it on this site, which is also crazy. Look, it’s...
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The War on Santa as Waged by Christmas
It happens in nearly every Christmas movie and holiday special, that point where some smug character in the story ridicules the existence of Santa Claus and shares an implied wink with the audience...
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The Other Side of Broken
If I said that I loved my mother you would probably nod, knowing that of course I did. Everybody loves their mother, from athletes to inmates and sailors at sea. To say I love my mother is what I am...
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A Moment With Oren
I thought Oren Miller was a dick, and I told him so. He had similar thoughts with regard to me. It happened before the private Facebook group, the best-known secret collective this side of the...
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Happier by the Dozen
Eleven ended in an easy moment, wrapped in an unworn sweatshirt beneath a window of stars, gently swaying to the rhythm of soft music against a hard highway, and the last scream of roller coasters...
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In the Mood: The Last Post
It had been twilight for days, the slow dance of sepia afternoons spinning with moonlit nights and dipping into misty, gray mornings. The only hints of summer in the sweat upon my brow and a glass kept...
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Choosing Our Confessions
We were playing the alphabet game as one does on road trips far too long, except our ride home from the beach was perhaps too quick and far too familiar—sometimes one needs a reason to look out the...
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So Are the Sick Days of Our Lives
The days all start the same. My wife is the first one up, and she isn’t quiet about it. Then the household menagerie begins their matinee performance: The cats run and scratch and meow and jump and...
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Cursing Kids and the Parents Who Love Them
Their mouths are as sweet as all of the candy we ever let them eat and forever teetering upon the cusp of gap-toothed smiles. Despite the screams, the tantrums, the assorted words of spite and hate...
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Goodbye #9
“Why is it so peaceful?” he asked through the irony. I ignored him hoping he would take the hint. “Why is it so peaceful?” he asked again. “I thought we were running late.” It was his first week of...
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