I'm Weird. Everyone Says So.

When I Was Little I Bragged About My Firefighting Father: My Father Would Go To Heaven, Because If He Went To Hell He Would Put Out All The Fires.

Everytime I Look At A Zebra, I Can't Figure Out Whether It's Black With White Stripes Or White With Black Stripes, And That Frustrates Me.

She Wondered If This Was True Of Every Parent: If, Prior To Having Children, They All Used To Be Someone Else.

My Mother Moves So Fast I Do Not Even See It Coming. But She Slaps My Face Hard Enough To Make My Head Snap Backward. She Leaves A Print That Stains Me Long After It’s Faded. Just So You Know: Shame Is Five-fingered.

I Would Have Given Anything To Keep Her Little. They Outgrow Us So Much Faster Than We Outgrow Them. Brian Fitzgerald, Talking About His Children.