I write about families. Mostly the parts nobody posts online: the forgotten permission slip, the dad who learned to braid hair from a YouTube video at 6 a.m., the kid who announced something at Thanksgiving that nobody saw coming.
I live and work in the US, and a lot of my stories come from the places families pass through every day. School hallways. Holiday tables. The sidewalk between two houses where neighbors stop to talk longer than they planned.
What I write about:
parents, kids, and dads who are figuring it out as they go
school life and the traditions families can’t let go of
neighbors who notice things
I’ll usually make you laugh first. The rest depends on the story.
When my mom moved last year, I found the shoebox where she kept every note I left on the kitchen table, tied with my old hair tie. Reading “Pizza in the fridge” twenty years later felt like opening a time capsule nobody meant to bury. These 12 time capsules were sealed on purpose and opened decades later, often by the people who packed them.
In fourth grade our teacher let the class name the classroom hamster, and after a week of campaigning he became Captain Biscuit by two votes. The boy who suggested it still brings it up at every reunion. These 10 famous names were chosen by kids, including five rovers on Mars, and the grown-ups in charge were smart enough to say yes.
If you grew up with the evening news on during dinner, you probably learned to tune it out by dessert. My mom, home between night shifts, would turn it off before the weather and tell me one good thing from her day instead, even on days she had to hunt for one. These 10 good things happened this year, and none of them made the evening news.
The only real kids’ table I ever sat at was across the street, the year my mom’s shift landed on Thursday and the neighbors set up a card table in their hallway. I was eleven and brought the one dish I knew, pie in a coffee mug. These 9 stories come from kids’ tables all over the country, where the rules were strict and the rolls ran out first.
When I was in middle school, my mom made something she called end of the week soup, and I didn’t figure out until college that it was whatever was left before payday. It is still the first thing I cook when the weather turns cold. These 10 dishes were born the same way, and families still make them because they are good.
If you grew up in the ’90s, one of these kids was probably taped inside your school locker. Mine was, and at a parent-teacher conference my mom was told I checked that locker more often than anyone in my class. These 12 child stars of the ’80s and ’90s grew up to win Oscars, run a fashion label, lead an actors’ union and host their own shows.
In our house, mug pie means a pie that fell on the porch and was served in coffee mugs anyway, and no one outside the family has ever understood it. Every family has a few words like that. These 14 words only one family uses come with the story of how they started, and linguists even have a name for them.
If you ever sat in chemistry class wondering who would actually use any of this, the answer includes a Queen guitarist. My mom keeps my report cards in a shoebox, and the chemistry grade is the one she still reads out loud, and not because she’s proud. These 12 celebrities have surprising degrees, from an astrophysics PhD finished at 60 to a math theorem with an actress’s name on it.
The family across the street had five kids and one bathroom, and their mom ran it with a chart taped to the door in 15-minute slots. As an only child, I thought it was the most exciting document in the neighborhood. These 11 parenting routines come from families with six kids or more, and parents and grown kids explain the laundry, the lunches and the rules that actually worked.
Every first day of school, my mom took my picture on the same porch step. In middle school, she came straight home from her night shift to do it. Eight photos, one step, and the same backpack in three of them. These 10 school traditions from around the world, from a cone of candy in Germany to a backpack meant to last six years in Japan, show how families mark the same morning.
Before we had a washer, my mom and I spent Sunday mornings at the laundromat on Third Street, where she folded and I guarded the quarters. A woman who came at the same time always saved us the one dryer that actually got hot. These 9 laundromat stories are about people like her, strangers who noticed and quietly stepped in.
We never had a dog, because of my mom’s night shifts, but the family across the street had a beagle born the same spring as their youngest. For ten years the two of them went everywhere together, including the snow tunnel we dug when I was 10. These 11 kids grew up side by side with a dog or a cat, and the then-and-now photos say the rest.