I hate words.
I know. I’m a writer and I’m not supposed to say something like that but, right now, I hate words.
I hate that the promises we make, both to others and ourselves, reveal our words as the weak things they are. Yet those same words, spoken in anger, take on a life of their own. They escape our lips propelled by the very worst in us, and wound like few other things can. Continue reading
You’re the first person to lick my eyeball.”
Just the other night, I sat at the dinner table—wearing my crazy folding reading glasses—and applying liquid bandage to the very painful cracks in my skin at the corners of my fingernails.
I looked up from what I was doing only to find Evie staring at me from the high chair, smiling her gummy grin at me.
“Daddy, whatcha doing?” Continue reading
An unfortunately recurring theme here at BDB has been taking better care of my health so that I can be around—and set a good example for—my daughter. This is the progress I’ve made in the past month:
To set things right, I’ve spent the last few days laying the foundation for my new fitness regime. Continue reading