My wife informed me that during a recent trip to the grocery store, when they passed the aisle with detergents and other cleaning supplies, Caleb announced, “This is the Mommy aisle.”
“Why is it the Mommy aisle?” inquired my wife, perhaps already speculating as to the answer.
“I guess because God made you that way,” replied my son.
Why do I foresee years of failed sensitivity training ahead of this boy? If only the re-educators had done a better job with his troglodyte of a father . . .
This is How You Heal the Wound
The Subdivision
On the Virtues of Peeing Outside
Imagination destruction
The Things We Build
Our Love Affair With Fairs
Curse of the Greedy Copyright Holders
Boy, the Scout Handbook Keeps Changing
Ya Gotta Have (Real) Friends
G.K., Santa, and Me
How Can I Teach My Kids to Work?
Intelligence Designer
Elective
The Glass Child
Name
The Grace I Know
Coming Apart
Uninterested
This little essay came to me more as a dream or a prayer, and people seem to like it, so I thought I’d share it
Some of you may enjoy my radical suggestion in today’s Wall Street Journal that the First Amendment doesn’t authorize teachers to indoctrinate children. It’s getting
Well, it’s been a hell of a summer. Pestilence, economic destruction, bitter partisanship, and now, the politicians descend from their lairs to commence the quadrennial
I’ve published a few things over the past few days that perhaps you’ll like: This is about a largely forgotten Oklahoma curmudgeon who foretold both
