The Adventure of Mom and Toddler to the Airport Gate
My two-year-old then "dove" towards the airport floor, arms straight behind her as Moana's are when she swims down for the heart of Te Fiti.
My two-year-old then "dove" towards the airport floor, arms straight behind her as Moana's are when she swims down for the heart of Te Fiti.
Now you know, you can't just sweep your problems under the rug and hope I don't build them up into metaphors for my failures as a parent.
He may mean well, but your dad has gotta stop this. Not only for the good folks at Toshi's, but for your socially-conscious millennial sanity.
Just because someone had a tough childhood doesn't mean they can't go on to hold a sign at a gas station and do a stellar job watching your kids. Right?
My parents' top priority wasn't a clean room or fresh air, but fire safety. This is why I had a 15-foot fire ladder in my second-floor bedroom.
Throwaways like "Things are cray!" and "It's such a busy time of year!" don't mean anything if you don't have the unavailability to back it up.
Strap your child in tight: no one wants to be jostled in the helicopter mid-air, even if it's a short ride from the Upper East Side to the Hamptons.
Once dressed, I sit at my desk and say a quick prayer to Dionysus. Then I take hold of the mighty pen and let his spirit take hold of my body.
Lucky, the dog I had growing up, was a living, breathing creature. Black Shuck, on the other hand, is a ghostly apparition fueled by bloodlust.
I do want to settle down and get married. But I'm also stuck in the San Diego Zoo's rhinoceros cage and it's way harder to meet women in here.
While I can't speak for aliens as a whole, Craxtavore, Conqueror of Worlds, is a total dick. I can't believe Mom doesn't see through his façade.
Fitbitting, isn't like any of my previous sports - it's even more demanding. A real Fitbitter would see the opportunity in every inefficiency.