“How thin and insecure is that little beach of white sand we call consciousness. I’ve always known that in my writing it is the dark troubled sea of which I know nothing, save its presence, that carried me. I’ve always felt that creating was a fearless and a timid, a despairing and hopeful, launching out into that unknown.” - Athol Fugard
anyone who has spent five seconds around me ever:yes, you love NateWantsToBattle, we know, you love NateWantsToBattle so much, he's the light of your life, you love him so much, you just love NateWantsToBattle, we KNOW, you love NateWantsToBattle you fucking love NateWantsToBattle ok we know, we get it, YOU LOVE NATEWANTSTOBATTLE. WE GET IT.
Chandler had an “accident” while we were at a sporting event this week. He got pee on his underwear and shorts, leaving him with only his sweatpants to wear. But what was I going to do with the wet clothes? Mind you, it was just the two of us, and I didn’t bring any sort of diaper bag. So…I Improvised.
This is our mostly eaten bag of cotton candy.
I tied off the bottom of the bag to keep our candy fresh, and then put the wet clothes in the bag above it. I’m like the MacGyver of Dads.