Stories, Entertainment & News
You don’t expect your life to change from the backseat of a car, especially not because of a five-year-old with raisin breath and a crayon in her hand. But that’s exactly what happened. It was the Friday before Father’s Day. I had just picked up my daughter, Lily, from preschool. She smelled like finger paint…
On the Friday before Father’s Day, everything changed. Driving home from preschool, my daughter Lily innocently asked if we could invite her “real dad” to dinner. Shocked, I gently pressed for more. She explained that he visits when I’m at work—playing tea party and having dinner—with my wife Jess. She even said, “You know him.”…
On the Friday before Father’s Day, everything changed. Driving home from preschool, my daughter Lily innocently asked if we could invite her “real dad” to dinner. Shocked, I gently pressed for more. She explained that he visits when I’m at work—playing tea party and having dinner—with my wife Jess. She even said, “You know him.”…
On the Friday before Father’s Day, everything changed. Driving home from preschool, my daughter Lily innocently asked if we could invite her “real dad” to dinner. Shocked, I gently pressed for more. She explained that he visits when I’m at work—playing tea party and having dinner—with my wife Jess. She even said, “You know him.”…
The punk slapped the old veteran so hard his hearing aid flew across the parking lot, not knowing 47 bikers were watching from inside. I was getting gas at the Stop-N-Go on Highway 49 when I heard the slap. That distinctive sound of palm meeting face, followed by the clatter of something plastic hitting…
On the Friday before Father’s Day, everything changed. Driving home from preschool, my daughter Lily innocently asked if we could invite her “real dad” to dinner. Shocked, I gently pressed for more. She explained that he visits when I’m at work—playing tea party and having dinner—with my wife Jess. She even said, “You know him.”…
On the Friday before Father’s Day, everything changed. Driving home from preschool, my daughter Lily innocently asked if we could invite her “real dad” to dinner. Shocked, I gently pressed for more. She explained that he visits when I’m at work—playing tea party and having dinner—with my wife Jess. She even said, “You know him.”…
