I’m on to you, kid. I see you plotting in the corner. “When is daddy going to wear a new shirt?” And when Daddy Ranman puts on his 2-time-worn shirt for work, he finds that obscure stain that you must have delivered on day #1 of this poor shirt’s life span. Right now you’re just a batterer, but I’m waiting for that day when you commit man slaughter and outright puke something fierce on me while out in public.

You are a schemer. When we tell you “no” to something, you circumvent us by pretending to take interest in some other event until we’re distracted enough for you to grab that knife we were originally trying to load into the dishwasher. Baby Rangirl, you’ll make a great queen to some king as you play him like a puppet before he catches on all too late.

Behold, your throne.


Clearly you’ll win this battle- you’ll own the throne when you’re good and ready. But, I’m ready. I change way less diapers than your mother and I’m super tired of doing it. My only saving grace with you is that diapers or not: I can’t take you into the men’s room for their toilets.

But seriously, you’re already close to size 5 for diapers, get to size-whatever-the-appropriate-size-is for no diapers.