Dear Son, Honestly, I should’ve started this campaign long ago, back when you were a fetus and your behavior was under control. Today the case is nearly hopeless . . .
Category: Terrible Twosdays
Are you a parent going through the Terrible Twos? Did you live through them and survive? Terrible Twosdays is a place to commiserate over the unending shenanigans of your Darling Children (as the online parenting communities say). Nonfiction stories will be considered, so long as names have been changed to protect the guilty. Inspired by our best-selling gift book for parents, Go the Fuck to Sleep, Terrible Twosdays joins the roster of our other online short fiction series. Unlike Mondays Are Murder and Thursdaze, we’re looking for stories with a light and mischievous feel, all about the day-to-day challenges of parenting. As with our other flash fiction series, stories must not exceed 750 words.
I am a distinguished professor. I am a dignified person. I have a doctorate. I am important in academic circles . . .
The kids and I dash across town to library story time . . .
JR was a precocious boy who loved to watch TV . . .
7:30am, Okay; coffee, laundry, then walk . . .
For as long as I can remember, my daughter asked me to take her to church. . . .
“Honey, I’m home.” Home to sulky silence, the absence of pounding footsteps, and the discordant music of two contentious nine-year-olds. I move through the eerie, foreboding silence toward her. Her—the mother of our children, and my wife of choice on most days . . .
He looks at me with woebegone betrayal in his large baby eyes. My tyrannical one-year-old son is teething, recovering from roseola. How could you leave me? say his eyes so expressively. His tiny hands reach out, appealing to me: Pick me up now! . . .