Sure the rooms were $350 a night, and we could only get a room up the stairs with a “street view,” and the restaurants were closed, and no barbecues on the beach, and there was no food or booze service on the beach. But it came with a “free mask.”
Did I tell you the Bear had a stroke?
Don’t worry it was long ago, and there are no obvious lasting effects other than (once in a while) she won’t shut up about it.
There’s a list of advantages to only spending weekends with the spouse. Surprise visits is not one of them.
We often forget the impact we have on others. Here’s a little reminder that came from The Boy (now age 29) through Facebook Messenger of what a shitty dad I am.
As a parent, there are a few moments when you don’t know whether to be pissed or to be proud.
Listen to this bullshit, and tell me which I should have been.
I’ve been in “husband” boot camp for 32 years. There’s no graduation in sight.
The fucking Savages started this trend of mini-dogs. The Boy followed and several months ago picked up a 13-pound rat that exhibits dog-like behavior.
Last year, the Bear set up a big family dinner for Father’s Day. This year she hosted a giant fucking party for 60-100 people.
I fought the Facebook, and the Facebook won.
It had been 25 years since I had smoked pot, when the Bear and I learned the new rules: Puff, Puff, Pass. We were visiting the Boy’s house
Most of my neighbors are so fucked up I can barely look them in the eye, but the Bear and the boy keep dragging me into conversations with them.
This generation of douchebag millennials is lazy, stupid and incompetent…
I have a son. He has a name, but I usually just call him “The Boy.”