While he's scouring the house for his dog his mom tears open a case of beer like it's some sort of emergency kit and tries to lure him back to the couch with it, and his real dad, a dude in a backwards baseball cap and wraparounds tells him that he can't chase him because he tore out his ACL skiing or boogie-boarding or something.
While he's scouring the house for his dog his mom tears open a case of beer like it's some sort of emergency med-kit and tries to lure him back to the couch with it, and his real dad, a dude in a backwards baseball cap and wraparounds explains that he can't chase him because he tore out his ACL skiing or boogie-boarding or something.
Forget about playing the eternal dude, Dad, you have even less mojo than you thought.
So one day my dad was, like, 'Dude, you have to get rid of the plants.' And it just so happened that Mother's Day was three days later.
My dad was a dude, and I could not see him wearing a miter, that high, pointed hat that's so popular with bishops, or carrying the gold crosier that indicates he's the shepherd of his flock, over one billion Catholics.
The above is an excerpt from my memoir, PregMANcy: A Dad, a Little Dude and a Due Date, a humorous memoir on faith, fatherhood and family.
According to my doctor, there are only two other people who share that joy in France – my dad and some dude from Toulouse.
According to my doctor, there are only two other people who share that joy in France my dad and some dude from Toulouse.
I guess that after you told your dad you like dudes, you apparently have no drama telling someone you don't dig wheat.
Dan Zevin, author of "Dan Gets a Minivan: Life at the Intersection of Dude and Dad" and "The Day I Turned Uncool," may be a humorist, but like the dads profiled in the Sunday Styles piece "Just Wait Until Your Mother Gets Home," he has also been a full-time father, squeezing in a sentence or two during nap time.
