Lesbian Dad

Spit-up rag code

From time to time, I ponder what it is that makes me a lesbian dad more than a lesbian mom. Since to all the world, I’m a mom, if one goes by the familiar calculation: female anatomy + parental status = mom. Yet something’s different. I’m not your mother’s mom,

Memory loss

We had a fire, okay, not a fire, but a whirr-click-whine! whirrr-click-whine! sound that repeated itself for, as we now learn, a devastatingly long period of time. That’s because the sound was emanating from our computer’s external hard drive, where we store all the essentials we’d grab if there actually

back up that-away
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