"Suburban Home"

It took us three weeks to move in — how else to explain the serious lack of writing up in here — but we're officially back in the friendly confines of suburban Atlanta.

Reunited and it feels so good.

After being back for just a couple of days, I realized that things were going to be indellibly different this year when Stacey and I took a trip to the grocery story for some essentials...you know, deodorant, cereal, poison-tipped darts. On this trip we saw no less than three dads flying solo with their kids. Maybe the divorce rate is higher here than in backwoods South Carolina, but I'm tempted to think I may have witnessed an actual stay-at-home dad or three in the wild. Stacey was visibly tempted to ask each of these guy's their 'story,' but with me at her side, her often-uncontrollable flirtatious nature was being held gingerly in check.

Then, two weeks ago when Connor and I visited our first playground since moving back, I ran into more dads spending time with their kids. What gives? Whereas I once felt like the odd man out, I'm now just one of the herd, and I'm receiving far fewer second- and third-glances than before.

I think it's time Connor got some tattoos, or a mohawk...or both.