There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself – John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994 My first child was a boy. I figured him out quite early. It’s always been easy to buy presents for him or to figure out the things that he likes. It doesn’t hurt that he seems to reflect me when I was his age so, often, the things I found cool are the things that he does. In terms of...
Like A Girl
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