Archive for the ‘Letters to L.’ Category

Or The Second, Or The Third . . .

January 6, 2022

“I give up!” my son proclaimed (loudly) while playing a game this morning.

“Forever?” I asked.

“No, just for now,” he answered.

“Good,” I chuckled, “because if I gave up ‘forever’ the first time your mother frustrated me, you wouldn’t be here.”

I’m Not Sure What’s Going To Happen Next

December 3, 2021

Today my son reprimanded me for playing my music too loud.

He wasn’t wrong (it was that kind of song), but I still feel like a fundamental balance of the universe has been disrupted.

A Quick Candle For My Son

November 24, 2021

I want to commend you, son, for realizing that much of what people argue about today are indeed “social constructs.” (I’m presuming your mother introduced you to that concept because that’s not a turn of phrase I use.) Once you think about, you start to realize that it’s frankly impossible for every place that claims, for instance, to make “the world’s best pizza” to actually make the world’s best pizza no matter how passionately their fans argue the point.

Once you realize that, you can appreciate the different styles of pizza and pick your own favorite.

So I Guess We WON’T Be Watching The Eclipse Then

November 18, 2021

“I’m not getting up in the middle of the night to watch a glorified lunar cycle on fast forward.”

– L.

That’s Why We Shouted “Unsurprise!” At The Party

November 3, 2021

“How can it be a surprise party?” my son asked me. “It’s not like I don’t know it’s my birthday!”

He had a point.

Because Like I Said, I KNOW How Things Work Around Here

October 6, 2021

I have since found out that the aforementioned “worm slingshot” incident involved a stretchable toy worm and stretching it out to “slingshot” it across the room. Apparently both L. and his mother were unprepared for the amount of force this generated, but were fortunate enough to not hit anything breakable.

And, yes, L’s Mother was indeed the instigator.

I Know How Things Work Around Here

October 5, 2021

“This may have been as bad an idea as the worm slingshot,” my son announced this morning.

No, I had no idea what the “worm slingshot” was, but certain probabilities crystalized for me when his mother grinningly said, “We weren’t going to tell your dad about that, remember?”

Turning to L’s Mother, I looked at her with play accusation and asked, “What did you do?”

The Many Forms Of Love

October 1, 2021

Apparently yesterday was (among many, many other things) National Love People Day, a fact my son learned when his mother pulled him into an early morning embrace. After letting him express his displeasure, I told told him that I would be demonstrating my love for him by NOT hugging because *I* recognized “Too damn early” o’clock in the morning wasn’t the right time for such a gesture.

So, So Proud

September 29, 2021

Today I don’t know what to write. I’m not feeling like being funny today, nor am I feeling morose enough that I feel I have to be funny. With that said, I’m going to tell a joke anyway because now I can do it without feeling disingenuous. It’s not a good joke, but it’s one I wanted to record here because it’s bad and I’m proud of it.

The other day L. and his Mother were talking about the word “wherewithal,” but off the top of their heads, neither could come up with a concise definition. When this was brought to my attention I said, “It’s like a regular withal except on a night with a full moon.”

So That’s How I Ended Up Accidently Pranking My Son This Morning

August 6, 2021

This morning as I walked into the bathroom I noticed what looked at first glance to be a bug in the bathtub. However a second glance convinced me that it was probably just a small bath toy that had taken a tumble. It being early in the morning, I honestly didn’t care either way, but I made a mental note to deal with it, whatever it was, after I had woken up.

Cue my son intercepting me as I walked out of the bathroom to inform me, “There’s a bug in the tub.”

Aha!” I thought. “He’s trying to prank me.” And sure enough, closer inspection proved that it was indeed a bath toy and not a bug.

Feeling proud of myself for seeing through his ruse, I scooped up the toy in my hand, walked into my son’s room, and proclaimed, “Here’s your ‘bug!'” while presenting it for his inspection.

Have I mentioned he doesn’t like bugs? Well . . . he doesn’t.

And he wasn’t trying to prank me either.