It’s ‘Kill Your Child’ Day on Dadwagon

There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was very, very good. But when she was bad, she was horrid. Given all that happened yesterday, these ancient and very, very famous lines could have been written about my daughter, Sasha, …

Preschool of America Sadly Emblematic of America

When I went to pick Sasha up from daycare yesterday, a woman outside the building shoved a flyer in my hand. Tune into WBAI, it instructed, “to hear the real story of what is happening at Preschools of America from the teachers who have been fired for merely expressing their rights.” The second page went …

Jeepers, Creepers, Where’d You Get Those Peepers? (a.k.a. Si ves algo, di algo.)

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman! No, wait—actually, it is a plane. This, pretty much, is a typical excursion out of doors with Sasha these days. No matter where she is or what she’s doing, she’ll suddenly tilt her head heavenward, point, and say, “Airplane!” And usually, Jean …

The ongoing, unfortunate torture of my daughter

Yesterday’s trip home from preschool was a typical one. Not content to either sit on my lap on the F-train or stand calmly and hold the railing, Sasha goofed around, wrapping her legs about the central pole to let everyone know just what kind of child I was raising. At the same time, I was …