Observations on Fatherhood #18

May 16, 2012 · One minute read

Lewis is like a New York City cab.

It’s not so much the fact that he’s always covered in spit-up, but because his cry is like the cabbie’s foot on the throttle.

It’s either off. Silent. Still.

Or FULL ON. A raging bleat that throws your head back.

There is no in-between.