Lesbian Dad

Star light, star bright

An ordinary ending to a day which began as many probably do, for many people, all over the world. Meaning, with the breathtakingly unexpected.  As I watch my daughter dance after dinner to Swan Lake, (here, Suite 4: Scene (White Swan), I know (again) how profoundly fortunate I am for

Wee dialog with the boychild

Scene: the rocking chair in the kids’ room. I’ve got my not quite two-and-a-half year-old son cuddled up on my lap, and he’s sucking my pinkie as I sing lullabies to him.  It’s a nightly ritual I predict I will be loathe to give up, and I try not to think of

back up that-away
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