“Unlike the trampoline of my youth with is rusted springs, small jumping area and metal frame, The Diva’s gift was probably safer than her mother’s womb and just as padded. Not only was it encircled with a six-foot-tall safety net like the kind trapeze artist use to avoid certain death, it also came with a…

Conversations about rain and mowing the lawn more than talk

On this Father’s Day (or the National Day of Me, as I like to think of it) I wanted to post something about my Dear ol’ Dad who’s responsible – for good or bad – for so many of my obsessions. Thanks, Dad. Originally published Sunday, August 2, 2009 2:59 am “My father, like virtually all…

Too Cute for Movie Jail

“What happens if we get caught?” she asked. “Well if YOU get caught, I’ll act like I don’t know you and walk into the movie. They’ll lock you up movie theater jail, where you’ll be fed nothing but stale, unbuttered popcorn and flat Diet Cherry Coke while being forced to watch the trailer for Pirates…

Be Wary of Typhoid Mary, She’s Cute but Contagious

Here’s an old school column that was originally published February 15, 2009. Every family has stories that, over time, become part of their mythology. For the Buckners, this is one such story, a story that’s been told and retold so many times, yet never seems to lose it’s gross-out humor. It’s the story about when we learned of The…

Even Slayer can’t beat those damn Peaches

    “Softball is something we can do together. Pretty much every afternoon we’ll go out and toss the ball around, snagging grounders and pop flies until we’re both sweaty. It’d be something straight out of Norman Rockwell save for Avril Lavigne pouring out of the Bluetooth speaker.” Listening to Slayer is dangerous in situations…

Becoming ‘Daddy’ is the sum of a thousand little moments

    So here’s one from back in the day when I was struggling with just how scary and  awesome it was being a dad to a baby and 10-year-old that was already smarter than I was. Funny thing is, I still pretty much feel exactly the same way. The only thing that’s changed is…

Yard Warriors Unite … Sorta

“… This isn’t a column about misery, sorrow and loss. It’s about discovery and finding peace with the decisions of others. But mostly it’s about a tool …” I ain’t gonna lie. It hurt. A couple of years ago when The Lovely Mother of My Children told me she was getting remarried, it stung. Most…

The Licker: Vol 3 in which Jellybean dances, laughs and doesn’t lick anything while serving as a flower girl at her aunt’s wedding. Originally published April 21, 2011, this column didn’t do justice for all the beautiful pictures that came from it, especially those with Jellybean, The Diva and The Lovely Mother of My children….

Nobody make eye contact with the flower girl

The Licker: Vol. 2 in which Jellybean’s odd habit of licking things when she’s nervous threatens to upstage an entire wedding in which she’s serving as a flower girl. Originally published April 14, 2011 (I think), this was the pre-event column that, much to my utter surprise, got such a response I had to write…

Careful, this one is a licker

Here’s one from back in the day when a then-2-year-old Jellybean began displaying a rather odd habit … licking. Originally published May 16, 2010 this was the first time I wrote about what become something of a running theme regarding young Jellybean’s strange need to lick things when she got nervous. I’ll be publishing the two…

There’s nothing funny about being tickled

  “I even tried walking away. They followed me. It was like Children of the Damned, a horror movie in broad daylight. Bruised and battered and more than a little grossed out, I finally escaped …” I had column planned for this week. It was pretty much written – in my head – as well as…

These columns – and my life – are a changin’

So here’s one from back in the day. Originally published on June 30, 2007, this was the column essentially announcing to the world that My (then) Lovely Wife and I were going to have a baby. Herein is the origin of Jellybean’s newspaper nickname and the first step in a journey continues to get stranger and…