Dad Habits
“Whatcha eating dad?” My daughter has spotted the spoon on the counter – the only evidence of the mint chocolate chip ice cream I have just shoveled into my mouth. ”Just looking,” I fib, allowing the shared fiction to continue.…
Heading for the New Year
Hi there, Tanya, it’s Tony. So sorry to wait until the last minute to call and leave a message. And listen, I know you did my wife a big favor by fitting me into your schedule this close to the…
Running Up Hill
All I wanted as a kid was some sort of vehicle that would move me up the highest hill in the neighborhood. I didn’t want to pedal, so I checked out books from the library on how to make a…
The One About Being White
Recently, a good friend of mine from the Midwest started giving serious thought to moving to Richmond with his family. We were chatting about different RVA neighborhoods when I thought it’d be easier to mark up a map on my…
Dorm Room Shopping with Dad
This ought to be a no-brainer. It’s just a freshman dorm room, after all. Four dull walls, two simple beds, and one large bathroom down the hall. How hard could it be to help my daughter buy the basic necessities?…
The Heat is On
August in Richmond makes some people miserable. They complain about the humidity and the mosquitoes. Friday Cheers is long over. The tomato plants didn’t make it, thanks to the squirrels. Cutting the grass turns into a strategic maneuver against the…
You Better Make Believe It
For a long period in my life, I forgot how to play pretend. As a child, I’d spend hours on the floor of my bedroom constructing narratives: superhero mashups between Green Lantern and Spider-Man, sequels to Nintendo games drawn on…
Handyman Dad
I suppose if it weren’t for the toilet that wouldn’t flush all those years ago, I wouldn’t be the married man I am today or living the life I’m living today. But thank you, God, for that commode. The raven-haired…
Caving In!
I like those old Coleman magazine ads where the kids stand by the stream with fishing poles, reeling in trout; Mom kneels near the picnic basket, driving in tent stakes; and Dad tugs at the station wagon, loosening the canoe.…
Return to Sleep-Away Camp
When my older daughter was eight, my wife Kat and I prepared to take her to her first sleep-away camp. It was the summer after third grade and she was ready for an adventure. She’d been active in the local…
