“What have we here, laddie? Mysterious scribblings? A secret code? No! Poems, no less! Poems everybody! The laddie reckons himself a poet!”
It is always interesting when seeing the world through the eyes of a bigot. And, of course, by “interesting,” I mean sad.
Two years and thousands of insurance dollars later, I discover that impending fatherhood brings about a sensation I don’t feel all too often in life: fear.
“I always wanted to be a father, until I had kids. Then I realized I always wanted to be an uncle.”