“Cutting Teeth is pure dynamite!” – B.L. Kennedy
December 14, 2016
Cutting Teeth
Tag: human relationships
our son’s last race of the school year
June 9, 2016
I heard a voice tonight. The kids were in pajamas. We had just said our family prayer and were playing tic, tac, toe, hit me high, hit me low, hit me three times in a row, buddy got hit by a UFO and what I heard was ROCK and so I played rock and … More our son’s last race of the school year
Happy Birthday, S.B. via Facebook
March 19, 2016
Poem’s audio below…honey, I even got a little throat clearing in for you at the end.;-) I don’t post as much as some people do. That’s for good reason. There are too many dummies doing so already. People posting too much shit that is selfish, mean, hurtful, and downright stupid. For instance, I am happy … More Happy Birthday, S.B. via Facebook
the art of marriage
February 14, 2016
It is more real than I ever expected— our life of keeping kids happy, healthy, and safe. Working every day so ends not only meet but overlap just enough to keep us comfortable and warm. It has been a great lesson in patience and faith, this art of marriage. And where we’re at now is … More the art of marriage
trembling with gravity
January 22, 2016
January 21, 2016 7:18 pm It is all here. Somewhere. In between my nine-year-old boy pounding drums in the basement and my daughter watching Scooby Doo on TV. It is out there in the cold night. Crunching under my wife’s feet as she walks home from work. It is in the sky affecting the earth’s … More trembling with gravity
a girl draws a picture
January 17, 2015
As I write this, my daughter appears. She’s made me a drawing.
To dad fum Oogie, it says.
There is a sun at the bottom of the page and a sun at the top. There is a flower growing out of the sky and a flower growing out of the ground. In the middle of the page is a giant, smiling frog. … More a girl draws a picture
actions speak louder than words
January 17, 2015
When I was a kid, just seven or eight, and it was bitter cold like this—the wind killing our cheeks, icing our eyes, and easing through even the most solid surfaces of our double wide—I woke every morning to the sound of Dad crumpling and rolling newspapers to light a fire two hours before the … More actions speak louder than words
