Donna reminded me the other day that, while I spend a good deal of time bitching about my current problems, I rarely talk about what she feels is a more likely candidate as the root of my problems... my parents. I've...

Because we've decided that five is simply one too many weddings to finance before we're forty-five, Donna has had an intrauterine device entrenched in defense of her fertile-as-the-Tenessee-River-valley uterus for a couple...

I don't need random freaks stalking my children, it's bad enough the Primary President drops by from time-to-time. To keep the creeps at bay, I don't post pictures of my children. I think I may have found a loophole...

Back in 1969, my grandfather was a Bishop in the Monument Park Stake on the very exclusive, very Mormon, east bench of Salt Lake City, Utah. This was at a time where there were only, believe it or not, eight stakes in the...

As the parents of four daughters (pick yourselves up, you heard me right... try to keep the karma comments to a minimum) Donna and I decided early on that we would need a less clinical term when referring to... ahem... a...

Sometime around midnight Donna and I heard a voice from the doorway of our bedroom, "Mom... Dad... hey..."

It was our twelve-year-old daughter, Megan. We hadn't noticed her come into the room as I had been busy...

A few nights ago I noticed while flipping through the on-screen cable guide that The History Channel was to air a 2-hour show,

Sally Field is hot. She always has been.

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