Baby Gifts I Registered For vs. Gifts My Baby Actually Wanted
Registered: A brand new crib with a breathable, hypoallergenic mattress / My Baby Wanted: Our dog’s bed, full of dog hair and slobbery toys
Registered: A brand new crib with a breathable, hypoallergenic mattress / My Baby Wanted: Our dog’s bed, full of dog hair and slobbery toys
I just don’t think I can morally justify knowingly bringing children into a world where their dad would be me.
Someone or something begins to rattle the door back and forth as if trying to force it open. Suddenly, it stops.
The more advanced students write basic sentences in their workbooks: “The—dog—says—woof” and “The—villager—screams—aarrrrrgggghhh!”
5:00 AM: After taking a deep mindful breath, I stroll outside to my gorgeous backyard and teach my daily Pilates class to the woodland creatures.
As a point of procedure, motions for new toys normally require a one-week notice period. See Maddy v. Mom (Safeway, 2021).
If they say something like, "Nice cowboy hat, asshole," pretend you didn’t hear—even though you're the only asshole wearing one.
What, you’re surprised? Remote lairs and underground redoubts do not pay for themselves.
"Take thy breakfast and cast it before Dad, and it shall become a mess upon the floor.” And Child and Toddler did as the LORD commanded.
Babies' forearm prints all turned into leeches crawling around a fetid pond.
Looking around, all I see are duds. In the sandbox, I see toddlers who don’t even know how to use their own feet.
You’re invited to a three-year-old’s birthday party where parents are—for some inexplicable reason—expected to join their children on the trampoline.