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I like to claim that the Wendy’s near our home, the one on the corner of Houston Northcutt and 17 North, is the slowest Wendy’s in the world. I generally budget a half-hour wait time when using the drive-through to get my kids’ cheeseburgers. It’s fully worth it. Wendy’s is the burger against which all…
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Some of the best conversations I have with my second grader come in the last few minutes before I drop him off at school. We ride all the way across town together in near silence, just the two of us, and then as we roll onto campus, we’re suddenly ready to talk. He wakes me…
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I think when my kids grow up and move out that I’d like to go back to the places we took them where they ran and played and laughed without knowing what was coming, not caring about what was next, the places where I watched them be completely free; I want to go back to…
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Sometimes I envy people who seem more decisive than I am. Why are they so sure of what to do when I’m so full of doubt? I think I’d like to be more like them, always moving forward, not bothered by the possibility of unknown risks, easily dismissing my past failures. Then, I remember that…
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My old man has this joke about Jesus on his way to be executed. The telling pivots back and forth from increasingly animated descriptions of Jesus’s torment – the crown of thorns, the weight of the cross, the spitting and jeering of the crowd – to an imitation of Jesus stoically pressing on despite his…
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Sometimes driving Cartter to school is a learning experience. This morning, for instance, I learned that Polar Bears have black fur underneath their white fur because it “attracts the sun.” “Why do they need white fur, then?” I asked. “So they blend in with the ice.” “Why do they need to blend in with the…
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Danyelle and I have reached the point where our boys’ allegiance is more to each other than it is to either of us. They’ve realized that if they form a united front, enforcement of the rules is more difficult. When it’s time to go into the back for bedtime, they both become inert. When it’s…
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Sitting at the dinner table listening to Scotty erupt into screams, I’m way beyond my last nerve. It should’ve been a good day – 70-degree weather in January, a stroll down to the old Pitt Street bridge stretching out into Charleston harbor, sitting on a park bench while the kids played amid centuries-old live oaks,…
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My neighbor has a way of looking at you like he’s surprised by everything you say. His normally elusive eye contact lingers a moment too long, his jaw hangs open, and he gives a half smile that hides anger in amusement. I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn a place that is so decidedly…
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Christmas break is nostalgia’s imitation of real life, cherry-picked memories setting up expectations of holiday bliss. Its onset is like being a kid again, wishes all still intact, the time to see them come true seemingly infinite. Sitting in the carpool line waiting to pick up my seven-year-old on his last day of school, butterflies…
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The Raging Elitist 