By the time you read this, it’ll be my oldest daughter Sasha’s fifth birthday. And thank God, too, because I’m sick of hearing about the plans for it. I’m not kidding. I think my wife Evi started talking about this shit in February. Over the months there were mentions of...
I’m sick of writing about how my family is sick. I’m sure you’re sick of reading about it. But since I post daily, and this blog is a diary, and a diary tells what I did that day, and what I did was absolutely nothing because everyone is coughing up...
I was chatting up* an old comedian friend the other day, when the discussion turned to Facebook. We both pretty much agreed: we wanted out. Neither of us got really descriptive or in depth about why we wanted to leave. I think the operative phrase was “sucks balls”.** *Conversation starter:...
My wife Evi has put together an Easter Egg hunt in our backyard every year since Sasha was born. She once told me that she wants some kind of party that’s an annual event we’re known for. Like, how we spent three straight Thanksgivings at the Robinsons’, or three straight...
“My God, I am so exhausted.” It was 7:30 PM and Evi looked like she was about to collapse. Not only did our daughters make consistent, warlike attempts to wreck the house (after supposedly being too sick to go to school), Evi attended some two-hour webinar on her metaverse project,...
During a recent workday in our home office, Evi and I got into a discussion about how many continents there are. She pretty much automatically said “seven” but I had to count. “So Asia is one, then Europe, Africa, North America, South America, Central America–“ “Central America?!?” Evi interrupted. “That’s...
So my wife is building a deck. Yes, you read that right. Evgeniya, the love of my life, my delicate flower, the former fashion model, has started building a deck in our back yard. Okay, first off, here’s a piece of advice: never call my wife a ‘delicate flower’. She...
My dad bought some Girl Scout Cookies a week or so ago, which he’s mostly kept hidden in his bedroom. I don’t blame him; any cookies left out in the General Population area of our house would disappear faster than a dead oak in a woodchipper. I don’t have much...
There was a time when membership in Generation X meant you were young, wild, and carefree. Commercials for brands like Mountain Dew or Coors Light featured Gen Xers–replete with dreadlocks, piercings, and tattoos–snowboarding, bungee jumping, or skydiving while loud grunge music played. The obvious subliminal message was, If you drink...
On top of the chest of drawers next to Evi’s side of the bed, I noticed a book she’d checked out of the Cape Coral Public Library. I think it was delivered to our local branch from another one specifically for her, as it was wrapped with a receipt-like paper...
Baby Sasha seemingly learns something new every day. I’d like to say she’s “early” or “ahead of schedule” but the truth is, I have no idea when the hell babies are supposed to do anything. Do they start walking at 10 months or five years? When are they supposed to...
Hurricane Irma blasted through Southwest Florida last month, causing damage, devastation, and grief to thousands of people. Not that I would know; I missed the whole thing. I dragged my wife and father into our minivan and got the hell out of the state. And yes, “dragged” is an appropriate...
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