I never really liked Father’s Day. Partly because I don’t really get the Father’s vs Mother’s Day dynamic. I think that’s crap, really. Mostly, though, because Father’s Day, for me, was something I had to tolerate. Does that make me an ungrateful jerk? Well, yeah, probably. Mother’s Day vs. Father’s
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Things have gotten a bit strange. I didn’t expect eighteen to be a big deal. It’s just a number, really. But, it feels like a division. Now, I’ve found myself taking a look at my life. Remember the game, Life? You went to college or went to work. You arbitrarily
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The other day, I saw the picture to the right come across my Facebook page. Immediately, I was bothered by it. To me, the most standout feature isn’t the text. It’s the fact that image is from the back. No self-respecting father – or mother – would promote, or even
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You know, once in a while, since I’m up earlier anyway, I steal my daughter’s perfectly chosen car. It’s fun to drive around occasionally when I can afford the gas. Don’t get me wrong, I brace myself for shock when I brave the use of it. I expect it to
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“You’re being an ass,” I admonished. …and with that, she engaged the icy teenage stare. I responded with the classic parental raising of the eyebrows as if to say, “Do we remember which one of us is the parent?” Silently, she closed her book and sulked into her room. WIN!
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She comes home late. She’s up until times I didn’t know existed. She sleeps until 20 minutes before she has to go work (which is 2pm). She leaves her dishes all around the house. She waits until she has six loads of laundry before she’ll do her wash. She comes
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Traditions We used to have a tradition, years ago. My daughter and I would get the biggest Christmas tree we could find. It started the first year I moved into this home. I didn’t usually do a tree, because it meant stuffing the thing into a very tiny apartment. Everyone
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As soon as someone said the word “Thanksgiving,” I started feeling that familiar uneasiness. Being a single parent on the holidays means coordinating the day around not only your family, but “the other’s” family, too. Well, at least it should. For me, it’s a not-so-gentle reminder that being a parent
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The other day, I noticed something different. “Hi Sweety!” “Hey…” she mumbled under furrowed brows. “Hmm…” I thought, “That’s funny. What did I do? What did I do?” See, my daughter isn’t really one to hold a bad day against everyone she meets. She’s also not the type to act
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“The tights and socks I left on the drying rack aren’t mine. I got tired of seeing them under the couch.” It would be an understatement to say I was horrified by this statement. I’m not naive. I’m guessing my teenage daughter expects that I’m not celibate… given the lack of
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