It could be worse. But still, Bobblehead Dad finds himself trying to explain the massive pile of milk cartons in his recycling.
The Food Police
It starts the first few hours after my son comes home. He goes to the refrigerator to grab the carton of milk. He inspects the expiration date printed on the side. Beads of sweat start to pop up on my brow.
A Twisted Breakfast
My son insists on having the dogs by his side. Maybe the cinnamon is triggering some nurturing hormone inside his growing body.
How My Son Made Me a Criminal
“Son,” the Customs Officer said, “tell me who this man is that you’re traveling with.”
Morning Mumblings
Why is it that my youngest son can hardly speak during the first 60 minutes of his day?
Disinfecting Dad
I bought a can of Lysol today. In retrospect, I should have come home with a case of it. Welcome to my life the last few days.
Last Dance
We had a morning full of “I’m not coming out,” and “This is gross!” and “Too long,” or “Too short,” plus “I look like curtains!” kind of comments.