Nathan TimmelThe Blog
Do you have a toddler? Chances are, you have a poop story to tell the world. I swear this one isn’t mine. Really. I feel sorry for the janitor, though.
My newest book, “It’s OK to Talk to Animals (and Other Letters from Dad” — a reflection on parenting when you find yourself away from home more often than not.
My wife likes to joke that I have no soul, because I don’t cry. She, for the record, weeps at the drop of a hat: during movies, a commercial, while reading… She even cried at the birth of both our children, and seriously, who does that?
I remember sitting in a theater, watching Dances With Wolves. Behind me was an obnoxiously stupid woman who chitchatted throughout the film, and became especially noisy during one scene…
In certain areas on this planet, women can be (and are) put to death at the whims of men. With an air of condescension, we Americans shout, “Look at those savages!” But are we really the superior nation when we subjugate women using legal means, not blunt force?
I have written this before, but it is absolutely worth repeating: I cannot wait until you have reached the age where you are no longer fascinated with my bathroom activities.
The problem with America—or maybe most people in the world—is that if given the option of being challenged, or catered to, the majority will choose “catered to.”
I two-armed a particularly large batch of items, and as I tossed them into the washing machine you started howling. You were off my lap and head first into the washer before I could react. Over the shoulder you threw item after item, digging deep into the pile of stinkables waiting to be cleaned.