In Praise of my Boys Razor Scootering in the House I Sing

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In praise of my boys razor scootering in the house I sing.

Slowly destroying the hardwood floors. One more thing I’ll have to fix if I ever want to sell or rent this place. Cutting into my equity with every lap around the living room. I could command them to stop, but at what cost?

In praise of the sacred economy of fatherhood I sing.