Category: James
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We got a new toy. Well, it’s “new” to us, which is code for “rescued from someone else’s chaos closet where toys go to plot their revenge.” Jack immediately struts in like he’s applying for a union job, slaps on the imaginary hard hat, and declares himself Garage Foreman of All Levers Everywhere. His first…
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The trash can was full—swollen, really—like it had been holding its breath all day waiting for me to notice. I tied the bag with the resigned strength of a woman who has done this chore so many times her hands move before her brain does. The boys thundered down the stairs behind me, the air…
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She had done it. She had sat down. Not perched, not hovered, not half-squatted with one butt cheek still in motion—fully sat. The couch welcomed her like a long-lost friend. Her spine sighed. Her coffee wept with gratitude. And then—they came. Jack (7), with the stealth of a ninja and the urgency of a man…
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It began like any normal day. I was minding my business, holding Puppy Dog Tequila like a shield, when Dad suddenly yelled, “GET ‘EM!” and launched himself at me and Jack like a giant, laughing monster. I screamed. Jack screamed. Dad screamed. It was a chorus of chaos. Dad tackled us onto the carpet. I…
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Before the council could begin, Sir James of the Living Room Kingdom climbed onto his designated leadership cushion with the solemnity of a man twice his age and half his snack supply. He surveyed his advisors — three loyal, questionably qualified, deeply beloved members of the Tequila Order — and nodded as if to say,…
