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Ok Class of 2013, Listen Up !!

This month's Dad's Eye View offers humorous advise to this years 8th grade graduating class.

Nagging: Our Least Glamorous Job

A humorous take on Nagging, from our Dad's Eye View author, Rick Epstein.

The Childcare Trapeze Act

“Yes,” she said, and hurried off to work.

Dad's Eye View - New Year's Resolutions

I can barely remember those awkward days when the past was long-gone, but The Future hadn’t quite arrived yet.

Dad's Eye View - In the Wilds With Daddy

When my daughter Sally turned 8, I bought her a new wooden canoe paddle and burned her name into the blade. With the gift came a promise: In July she and I would take a three-day canoe trip on the river that flows past our house. We hung the paddle over her bed.

Dads Eye View: Honey, Want to Meet My Ex?

It was midnight. Three other fathers and I were sitting around a campfire, talking, drinking illicit beer and staring into the flames. We were on a YMCA Adventure Guides camp-out. Our kids were asleep in the cabin, their marshmallow-smeared faces glued to their pillows.

Dad's Eye View: 5 Tips on Telling Bedtime Stories

“Tell me a story about The Green Man Goes Trick-or-Treating.” When my daughter Sally was 3, that’s what she’d demand every night at bedtime for about a year. The Green Man is a weathered bronze statue of a soldier that stands on a big rock about two blocks from our house. I’d tell Sally bedtime stories in which the statue comes to life and has adventures with her.

Dad's Little Rule Book

“Wendy!” I said, “What happened to your dress?” It was a cute little green-velvet number that my wife Betsy had bought for our 7-year-old to wear in the school concert. Up near the nape of her neck, there was a ragged hole big enough for a butterfly to sail through.


I was walking down the school corridor, and all the other kids turned to stare. “Hey Ricky,” said Pam Wintermute, a fellow fifth-grader with whom I was in love, “How come you’re wearing your P.J.s?” I looked down and, horrified, had no answer for her. I fled toward the classroom, wondering, “How’d I forget to get dressed? Why didn’t Mom say anything?” I had no idea what to do except sit red-faced at my desk and pretend nothing was wrong.