Election Play
They supposedly have all these rules and restrictions about who can and can’t vote. But this is America: We don’t make rules. We break them.
And so my son totally got his vote on this morning, and I have the picture to prove it.
They supposedly have all these rules and restrictions about who can and can’t vote. But this is America: We don’t make rules. We break them.
And so my son totally got his vote on this morning, and I have the picture to prove it.
First things first: I’m not suggesting I want a divorce.
But if I were to get divorced from my beautiful, understanding, intelligent, pretty-much-perfect wife and want to marry someone new, I hope I’d be able to marry whomever I chose.
Depending on where I live, that might not be the case.
It’s so much easier to be fat.
Okay, maybe it’s not easier to actually BE fat. But it’s definitely easier to GET fat.
And it’s a definitely piece of cake (or three) to let your kids get fat. Feeding them is headache enough even when it’s food they like, but you start putting nutrition into the mix and it becomes [insert hilarious Hunger Games reference here].
It’s so much easier to just let him have the damn french fries again.
My son is not yet two years old, and as we haven’t had him tested yet, we can’t know if he’s got the gay or not. But we can guess.
He loves to dance. He enjoys wrapping scarves around his neck and playing with my wife’s makeup kit. He’s really into stuffed animals and has long eyelashes.
The writing is on the wall.
Read more about What Does Same-Sex Marriage Mean For My Son? …