Melinda tried to kill me at dinner again last night. She made chicken and broccoli and baked a roll of Pilsbury biscuits. I thought the biscuits smelled a little funny when she took them out of the oven, but when I took a bite, I knew they were moldy. It was the same taste I …
“Do you notice anything different about me?” Melinda asked me tonight while getting ready for bed. I don’t think there’s a sentence that’s more capable of striking pure terror into a husband’s soul. I looked her up and down, scanning for some change I may have been too preoccupied, drunk, or stupid to notice. Usually, …
I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere in my twisted past, I decided that I hated Halloween. Every year since the 8th grade, when I roamed my friends’ subdivision dressed as Ringo Starr, I’ve felt too old to celebrate. Something about collecting candy from strangers when I had enough money to just buy …
I Don't Belong Here. 