My Wild Raunchy Son

I know you think I hate you. I don't. I hate the kid who called the librarian a "milf" under his breath. I hate the attitude. But you? You are still the boy who cried when his goldfish died.

The parental goal is never to break a boy's spirit. The goal is to act as a steady, reliable rudder that guides their intense energy toward a constructive future. my wild raunchy son