My son broke his arm. FML.

Let’s get this out of the way real quick—my son broke his arm. It happened. It’s unfortunate. But more important than that unpleasant event was what I was able to make of it. After his broken arm was dealt with, as I watched over him resting on the couch, propped up with every pillow I could find, it got my old blogging gears spinning. I felt that engine spark to life. There were points to be made here and points to be earned. This moment contained multitudes of lessons and jokes that people could learn from and laugh at. This was bigger than me and my family. I was seized by inspiration to craft a long overdue blog post to tell you all about it and somehow build to a statement on the human condition that I may have to retrofit in here somewhere to justify exploiting my son’s medical history and trotting out my family troubles. Continue reading


I make a lot of eggs on Saturday mornings.  I feed the multitudes like Jesus. But I don’t make fish. I don’t have a magic basket that keeps popping up with the fishes. And no one will build a church in my honor. Continue reading

One movie that definitely needs parental guidance.

Jill and I do not do things like most couples. For example, we inexplicably chose to unschool. We also haven’t had one night without kids in 10 years.  Continue reading


Every year the village near my home puts on a fest called Fall on the Green. Most of the green is a parking lot. So it would be more accurate to call it Fall on the Asphalt. Continue reading


What’s the best thing an American father can give his 7 year-old daughter? If you answered anything other than “straight up Disney Cred,” then you’re a better dad/parent/human than I am—which isn’t saying much, so maybe you should just slow down. Continue reading


by Jeff

When I was nine, I would go to bed with my arms folded neatly on my chest in case I died in my sleep. Continue reading