This is an odd time of year. Women begin to inexplicably place gourds throughout the house and the Internet is abuzz with demands that we put flightless birds in seasoning socks and roast them upside down. It’s also a stressful time of year. I can hear the entire country yelling, “I thought we had a gravy boat!” and “Apparently aunt Jackie is bringing uncle Walt with her. Can you check if CVS carries hemorrhoid donuts?”
All the chaos makes it tragically easy for us to forget about our year-round favorite food: Toast.
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The only thing Lindsay and I do really well in the kitchen is eat. Neither of us has any confidence in ourselves or each other to create anything edible. The idea of cooking more than one thing at a time gives us both heart palpitations. Since Thanksgiving this year is mostly up to us, and we’re inept and severely handicapped by children wanting to “help,” the only thing we’re actually cooking is the turkey. The rest comes from a variety of boxes that say “Trader Joe’s” on them. Continue…
For those of you that recently started reading 365, here’s a curated list of 10 of my favorite entries about kids/family.
Also, thanks for joining the “fan” page.
Enjoy.
Dad, What’s Your Policy on Machine Guns?
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I went to the beach today for the last time in my life. I’ve given beaches plenty of chances not to suck and they always fail. After 5 minutes, I’m sweaty, salty, and stingy. That’s not even remotely tolerable when you’re alone, but when you also have 2 genetically unprepared children with you complaining about heat exhaustion and butts full of moist sand, it can result in a psychotic break. You ever try to get wet sand out of a 2 year-old’s ass crack? Continue…
People don’t really change. That’s what I’m trying to be clever about here. You realize that as you get older. There’s a time in your life when you’re old enough to have vivid memories of your parents at your age. I remember what my Dad was like when he was 39, and now that I’m that age, I understand him way better. When you’re young you think adults have everything together. When an adult, you realize that “grown-ups” are really still children who have accumulated more baggage but learned how to hide it and talk to people without crying, throwing a fit, or needing to make them a mix tape. Continue…
