"Skirt-chasing," "randy" and "dalliances" in the first three sentences. Are we in London? The 1950s? Or does the Post always write like this?
I taught Nathan to say “Yankees” this weekend. (“Yangee!”) He recognizes the interlocking NY and gets that we have matching caps. Between this and his Shake Shack dinner, I’ve hit a new fatherly peak.
Nathan’s mother, meanwhile, has him hooked on her chocolate chip cookies. So we have all the important things covered.
Nothin' like a little self-hate to fan the flames