Apparently my five year old daughter told her kindergarten teacher that if she ever gets married she’s going to walk down the aisle to AC/DC’s “Hells Bells.”
Most men will not read this. Men don’t want to read about other men’s parenting experiences.
“Fortunately we got to her in time, you know, before the blaze could spread,” Jessica said.
For how many more years will you host the birthday pool party with the pizza and the cake from the grocery store . . .
As one of the more common breeds of spineless parents I am a huge fan of giving in the demands of my two-year-old. She’s an F5 cyclone of a girl full of wildly fluctuating emotions and I’m the house made out of straw.
Dr. Eye, the pediatrician, says that they should not be drinking out of bottles ANYMORE.
Once upon a time, there was a brave mother and father who decided to maneuver three suitcases, one backpack, two car seats, one Pack ’n Play, and two young children—including a cranky toddler—all the way to Disneyland.
Two minutes. Are two minutes too much to ask? Two minutes to talk with a grownup without having to worry about you? But no. I take my eyes off you for two lousy minutes and next thing I know you’re huddled under the slide, sobbing like somebody stole your cupcake.