OG DAD #15: TOT BITES DOG
So I’m standing in front of the fridge, door open, wondering more-or-less what happened to my life, when I suddenly remember I have an eight month old baby in my…
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Jerry Stahl
32 posts
Kyle Minor is the winner of the 2012 Iowa Review Prize for Short Fiction. His second collection of short fiction, Praying Drunk, will be published in 2014 by Sarabande Books. His recent work appears in The Southern Review, Gulf Coast, Best American Mystery Stories, and Twentysomething Essays by Twentysomething Writers.
OG DAD #14: BACKOPALYPSE NOW
Before what happened happened at Sandy Hook Elementary, I was going to write about back pain. Specifically “boomer back”—dark secret of infant–spawning post-50 boomerdom—a malady specific to “older parents”
OG DAD #13: My Baby Does The Hanky-Panky
As if the recent presidential campaign was not disturbing enough, in the middle of it, my five month old morphed into Donald Trump.
OG DAD #12: Inherit the Wind
A baby is like a Rorschach. An occasionally adorable, periodically screamy blob onto which we project our own fears, delights and inner damage. Or something.
OG DAD #11: How To Depress A Baby
Ideas, as famed vegetarian and human breast milk fan, George Bernard Shaw, once said, are not responsible for the people who embrace them.
OG DAD: Milkaholic
It’s been forty-three days since Baby N came in for landing. Maybe too early to wax sentimental, but not, I hope, to revisit the particular weirdness of Mondo Maternito.
OG DAD: Lick the Sofa and Die
My fear, as a late-in-the game dad, was that somehow I’d end up in diapers before my baby was out of them.
OG DAD: Big Daddy Cannes
First time away from the baby, and the world is a strange new place. Before leaving, I spent an acid-without-the-acid-esque few days contemplating the tiny faux-hawked nipple-sucker perched atop E’s monstro breast.
OG DAD: A Stahl Is Born
Don’t let the idyllic lead full you. The night behind us has been so Game of Thrones-y that even now the blood squishes underfoot, the floor is littered with cast-off scarlet rags, stained plastic gloves.
OG DAD: Dope-A-Mom
Here we are, back in the doctor’s office. Our home away from home. We’ve come, yet again, to try and see why our unborn party ball has yet to start its descent into humanity.
OG DAD: The Anal Cauliflower, and Other Wonders of the Pregnant World
E raised her head on the table, dizzy from doctor-probing. “Wh-what? A hickey?”
OG DAD: Stir Crazy
What going on there in Wombville? Has she heard me fart? Why is she shunning our invitation? Last to leave the party in mommy-gut…