Sixty months

Sixty months

David is worried about getting older because he’s worried that, when he grows up, he’ll like hot sauce and football. He sees how his father and his father’s friends consume hot sauce and football and so it seems inevitable that eventually his weekends will be full of Sriracha and shouting, “COME ON! THAT WAS HOLDING!” And yet, that didn’t keep

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Forty-eight months

I started a draft of this post back in June, because I figured that’d give me enough time to create a snapshot of David, my biggest boy. Since then I’ve been procrastinating and now this post is a whole month late. It’s because it took me that long to realize the task is impossible; a personality can never be

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