I don’t have the attention span for real writing today. But that’s okay. The hot trend on all the popular websites right now seems to be lists anyway, so let’s try one of those. If you’ve ever wondered how I came to call myself The Nut, well, this is by no means an exhaustive list, but it’s a start…
Another Father’s Day has come and gone, and now that I’ve done my daughterly duty and shelled out some of my time and money in a pitifully modest recognition of all the time and money my dad spent on me over the years, let’s have a little chat.
Because buying my dad a simple dress shirt should not be this fucking hard.
I know there’s a whole new generation of svelte hipster CrossFitting Superdads out there, believe me. And I’m not saying they don’t deserve material rewards for their paternal endeavors just like any other father figure. But every year it seems you’re catering more and more to them, and leaving less for the still plentiful dads who showed them how to do this whole dad thing in the first place.
You know, that whole giant demographic of middle-aged dudes you seem to have completely forgotten about?
It’s been said often, and with good reason: it really is about the little things.
I didn’t feel like writing today. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything all week. Getting out of bed this morning and yesterday was a struggle; Monday and Tuesday I was too out of it to even bother putting up the fight. I’m sick of being sick, I’m tired of being tired, and my energy reserves are running on empty. But at least I have my goddamn Tweety Bird socks on. And that matters more than you might think.
Hold on to your hats, we’re going to get all real in here for a moment.