Tag: Kids

  • Short Story Review: “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema

    Short Story Review: “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema

    (The short story “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema appeared on September 19th, 2025 at Okay Donkey.)

    Image from Okay Donkey

    I like being a dad. Fatherhood has been more rewarding than I imagined. And I will also say that parenting is harder than I thought possible because unforeseen changes seem to happen every three months. Just when I think I got it down, life with the kid takes a right turn. Though me and the wife had plans and best intentions, we learned that we weren’t in control. Reading Emily Rinkema’s cute and humorous “13.1 Septillion Pounds,” I was reminded of all of those emotions, especially when our kid was still a squirmy baby.

    The premise of the story is that two parents go to wake their baby only to find that the child has written math formulas and equations on the walls the night before. The math is accurate, as two mathematicians arrive and verify. I feared this setup was going to lead to a one-note joke; kid does something crazy therefore the parents have a crazy reaction.

    I needn’t have worried.

    What the story is playing on is the unintended consequences of the parents’ well intended actions. Perhaps the Grandma was correct and the child is just gifted, and this situation would have come about inevitably. Or, maybe it was the mobile displaying the galaxy that influenced the baby? Clearly the basketball that the father left in the crib helped the child formulate the weight of Earth. Though I’m not sure I know a parent that would leave a Sharpie in their child’s crib, but hey, I can let that one go. The truth, and the humor for that matter, of this story lies in an honest fear and hope that parents have; they hope their children will do better than them, but fear that in succeeding the child will become someone they won’t understand.

    The conclusion that the parents reach is correct, and one which makes the world right again. It is wholesome, right and honest, all the things that I hope parenting is. Most of the time, I have no idea what I am doing as a father. It’s a scary tough job. But being able to help my kid become who they are is a deep and profound privilege. It’s just a really bumpy ride that loves to make a bunch of turns.

  • Date Night!!!

    Rather on the last minute, the kid got invited to a slumber over the weekend. Great for the kid as she is getting to the age where she’s not so keen on spending every minute with us. So, her getting a night away from her folks was a huge victory!

    And it wasn’t too shabby for us either. With the kid gone on a Saturday night meant that we could have a fully guilt free date night! And you know what, we looked up and found a new place to go. A place with cocktails, and an adventurous menu, and it wasn’t too far from us up in Northern Harlem. It was perfect.

    Then it rolled around to time to start getting ready, which caused us to admit that we really just wanted to order out and watch a movie on the couch. Yes. We had the opportunity to go out, and we decided not to because we didn’t want to.

    This has led to wonder of the rest of the weekend; are we getting too old? We had the opportunity to go out and do something we like doing, which is trying new places to eat, and the restaurant wasn’t far away. Not like we had to go downtown or anything. And this wasn’t cute “Let’s stay in a snuggle on the couch” even. This was ordering food and sitting on the sofa in silence as we watched a movie.

    I would hate to think that we, a couple in our late forties, can’t muster the energy to go out and get and get drunk anymore.

  • Playing Sports (Unedited)

    My kid is on her school’s soccer team, and she loves it. We love it too, as it is the best way for her to burn off the huge amounts of energy that she has in reserve, and it keeps her off a screen. I don’t know if she will be a life longer soccer player/fan and honestly, I don’t care. I like that she’s playing on a team, and doing something physical.

    If you are not aware, I come from a very competing family. I wasn’t blessed with the athletic gene (though I wasn’t too bad at tennis) but playing and winning at games was a big thing in my family growing up. Lots of board games and wiffleball in the back yard. With two older brother who were nine and seven years older than me, it was difficult to beat them at sports as a kid, but that didn’t stop me from trying. My oldest brother played baseball, and my other brother was all about basketball. I tried my hand at both, but didn’t have the skills. I could through a baseball well, but couldn’t hit to save my life. As for basketball, I don’t ever remember feeling that I was coordinated enough to be good at it.

    My father had a rule in our house, which was we had to play a sport up until we turned sixteen. After I washed out of Little League, and junior high basketball didn’t have a place for me, my father suggested that I take up tennis, which was a sport he played. I took lessons once a week for two years, and I got kind’a good, but not that good. But my father’s point did sink in; you have to stay active and physical, or you will just go pot.

    So, I guess I am keeping the tradition alive. Going to keep her in a sport until sixteen, when she can decide for herself if she wants to continue.

    When I turned sixteen, I stopped the tennis lessons, and committed myself to my high school’s theatre department. Which, in a round about way, is also a team sport.

  • Earworm Wednesday: Bowie

    It’s Mary Hopkin’s singing those “Doo Doo Doo’s” that locks it into my head.

    The song also reminds me of the time when I was driving around Northern California with my then five-year-old daughter, and she thought this was the coolest song, and made me play it over and over in the car.

  • Doomsday Dinner Preppers

    (This has nothing to do with Doomsday, or Doomsday Preppers… I just like the way the title sounded.)

    Not that anyone is keeping score, but I am a stay at home parent, and, by the way, I really do enjoy it. But that’s not what this is about.

    As the primary care giver to my daughter, that means I am the go-to guy when it comes to getting her to soccer practice after school three days a week. It’s not a huge burden, and though it can be dicey getting to practice on time, it’s a good way to spend some time with the kid. But as the primary care giver, that means when we get home, I also have to get dinner going.

    Which brings me to prepping diner for my family. I’m not talking about anything complicated here, just getting all the ingredients ready ahead of time, sometimes in small efficient containers, so when we walk in the door, I can start making it.

    I have been doing this for a couple of weeks now, and I have to say that I get such a feeling of satisfaction of sweeping into the apartment, seamlessly moving into the kitchen, beginning dinner, chatting with the wife when she’s off’a work, and having everything ready within thirty minutes, give or take. I’m like John “Hannibal” Smith – “I love it when a plan comes together!”

    (Sorry if you are looking for dinner prepping tips… I have none other than buy more small ramekins.)

    It’s having the ability to reliably and dependably provide food that my family wants, night after night. It’s about making people you care about happy. And we can sit around the table and talk and connect, and be together.

    I know that I am not breaking new ground here, but I am a little surprised at home much I have come to enjoy cutting vegetables and measuring out herbs several hours ahead of time.

    I didn’t know I had it in me.