“If you could do anything in the world for your birthday — anything at all — what would you do?” My daughter, Layla, mirrors the question that I asked her last month about her birthday when I was looking for… Continue Reading
The party is just getting started. Our guests are laughing and listening to Pandora, happy at the start of the holiday weekend. Down at the beach, the sun sets into the Gulf, and here, the sky hazes yellow to pink.… Continue Reading
As my daughter and I walked out of the theater after watching Star Wars: Episode IX—The Tears of the Ewok, I couldn’t help but feel that I would never be the same. Maybe it was because the series that had… Continue Reading
When will Mrs. Stuart wake up? I’m not certain; the doctor said she’s in a deep sleep and when ready, will wake, when the time is right. She looks so peaceful, even with that machine and everything. Yes. I wonder… Continue Reading
We sit in the car as long as possible. Dance class is the longest hour of the week and I see no reason to spend more time inside than necessary. Noelle latches on to my ring and pinky finger as… Continue Reading
The board members cowered in their oxblood leather chairs as the baby toddled toward them in a diaper, raising his pudgy arms. “Welcome, I am Damien — new chairman of the board.” Damien’s eyes glittered as he took a seat,… Continue Reading
When my daughter jumped onto my bed at 6:15 AM, she woke me from a dream that included drinking rum. My mother had also been there. Both were weird: Even in my drinking days rum was always a last resort,… Continue Reading
2:55 The girl with the Supergirl t-shirt and the frilly purple skirt runs into the after school program. She greets the afterschool teacher with her arms in front of her, flying as fast as her sneakers can go. “I’m a… Continue Reading
Dear Mrs. Claus, You may wonder why I’m writing to you instead of Mr. Claus. After all, I am the father of a beautiful two-and-a-half-year-old girl, Adrienne, so surely I must have a Christmas list that stretches miles long: Elsa… Continue Reading
The line is an unruly squiggle. I watch them wait for portraits with the mall Santa — their faces dulled by 2 a.m fevers and preschool reports, these husbands and wives who loved a boy or a girl before the… Continue Reading