Bath Time!

Bath Time!

The last time I wrote about my son’s penis, it ignited a firestorm in the comments.

(Seriously. The two most controversial posts I’ve written have been about circumcision and My Little Pony.)

This one isn’t about anything nearly as controversial as men who like cartoons that are made for little girls, but it does involve my son being naked. I also threw Return of the Jedi into it. So maybe the Bronies and the anti-circumcision crowd can find some common ground when I talk about…

BATH TIME!

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Not My Kid, Not My Problem

Not My Kid, Not My Problem

Large groups of toddlers make me very uncomfortable. Simply surviving the tornado that is my own (almost) two-year-old is a daily workout. When there is a group of these creatures underfoot, my blood pressure goes through the roof.

I’ve written about the struggles of keeping my son in check when visiting a friend’s home, but today’s post is not about my kid; it’s about everyone else’s.

My kid gives me enough stress. If it’s not my kid? It’s not my problem.

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