My son is two years old or, in the jaw-clenching vernacular of uber-parents, he’s twenty-four months old. Before having kids I vowed only to count a child’s age in months until they were old enough to count it in years. …
Boys. They just can’t do the safe thing, they’ve got to toe the line, peer over the edge, then ride their bikes along it. I’m trying to water the plants last night and Number Two decides he’s coming out. Fine…he…