Our First Family Holiday In Photos— And Breastfeeding!

Our First Family Holiday In Photos— And Breastfeeding!

This is a dual purpose photo post that will both recap Four’s first holiday with my family and throw public breastfeeding pics in the faces of people who were angry at my last post. Joy to the world!

Airport BoobWe started the holiday trip off right with our rendition of Little Town Of Breast-Ahem at the airport. I know they hold more than 3.5 ounces of liquid, so how did she sneak them past the crack TSA team at security?


Bad Ass Dad and sonMe and Frankie Four landed in Maryland and were immediately accosted by some woman (who may or may not be his mother and my wife) because of our winning smiles. We can’t help it if we pretty.

Mixed race familyI am an equal opportunity uncle and demand racial diversity in my family. It was very difficult for me to accept that my son turned out to be Caucasian but I love him anyway. Appearing in this photo from upper left to right is my sister, my wife, my nephew, my mom holding my disturbingly cracker-ish son, and my niece.

Bad Ass Dad wifeMy gorgeous California wife dressed in a New York outfit in the Maryland woods. This was what she was wearing when she was last seen so if you—just kidding. The ground was way too hard to dig a hole that day.

Bad Ass DadKevin and I have been friends for 25 years. You think he’d have offered me some of his sperm so that my kid had a little melanin.

Bad Ass DadScott and I have been friends for over 30 years and it looks a lot like he donated his sperm given Four’s cheeks.


Bad Ass Dad and sonsFranklin Nathaniel Prather’s 2, 3, and 4. One of them believes that he’s the master of the universe and so do the other two.

prather thanksgivingThis is a happy photo of Four’s first Thanksgiving and definitely not a family that’s being forced to pretend that everything is fine by armed home invaders. (Help us)

grandparentsPop, Four, and GeeBee, not to be confused with Bel Biv Devoe.

bad ass dad hairThe wind messed up my hair so I was forced to brutally murder the wind. Problem solved.

Bad Ass  Dad familyWould it be egotistical of me to caption this, “Best Looking Family That Ever Lived”?
Ok, good.

Bad Ass Dad friendsWhen my friend Larry died he left behind a beautiful family who I finally got to introduce to Four. Seeing his kids playing with my son was one of the highlights of my year. His twins were asleep by the time we actually took a pic.


Bad Ass DadOn the flight to Florida our son crawled into the arms of a strange Asian woman named Linn. That was literally the only thing she said that we could understand.

Bad Ass DadHere is Four in a rickshaw and not because the last picture was of him and an Asian woman. Don’t be such a racist. But I think we can all agree that one of them is probably a terrible driver.

Bad Ass DadFour with Nena, his great-grandmother and the reason we were in Florida.

Baby in a suitcaseI’m not saying you should pack your baby in a suitcase,
I’m just saying it might make the flight more peaceful.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingI promised breastfeeding pics so here’s one that, unfortunately, did not take place in public. But don’t worry, they’re coming!

Bad Ass DadThis is my nephew Chris showing off his first tattoo as well as a small white child.

Bad Ass DadWe spent a few days at the beach trying to catch our tans up with my niece Cassi. We failed.

Bad Ass DadI don’t know if you’ve ever checked the caloric content of sand but, given how much of it he’s eaten and how his body looks, I’d say it’s fattening.

Bad Ass DadSHART! Wait, I mean SHARK! No, it was a shart.

Bad Ass DadOnly one of the best days of my life, no big deal.

Bad Ass DadThe #1 beach in America according to someone who ranks beaches. In America. But after Siesta Key, you need a…

Bad Ass DadA siesta—while being watched by toy creepers.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingAfter the nap, a little X-mas shopping with St. Nipple-ous.

Bad Ass DadThe next day we took the family to a state park where not a single one of us got eaten by an alligator or encountered someone invoking the ‘Stand Your Ground’ law. You’re slipping, Florida.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingWe also took a little boat ride in the 90 degree weather. I’m clearly upset with Lisa for not covering our son in something that would overheat him to death just so she could protect the other people on the boat from her semi-visible boob.
(I’m on a boob, bitch!)

Bad Ass DadFour is having the time of his life. Wheeeeeeeee!

Bad Ass DadFour’s enthusiasm for life was reinvigorated when we all went to Universal Studios!

Bad Ass DadMommy helps Four wake up. SURPRISE!

Bad Ass DadHe poses for the picture or he gets the hose again.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingMy wife breastfeeding my son, uncovered,
while walking with my mom at Universal Studios in Florida. Bad Ass women.

Bad Ass DadAnd the defining image from our trip. The family.
From L to R:
Frankie Four (my son)
Lisa (my wife)
Gloria (my mom)
Cassi (my niece)
Stephanie (my sister)
Chris (my nephew)
Gloria aka “Nena” (my grandmother)

…and the luckiest guy on earth, me.

Breastfeeding In Public Is Offensive

Breastfeeding In Public Is Offensive

UPDATE: The mom whose post I’m responding to here edited her piece dramatically after what I can only assume was the outpouring of support for my blog. So, lest you think that what I wrote below is an overreaction to her seemingly milder post, here is a link to a screenshot of her original post To The Mom Who Refuses To Put A Cover On. (If the image appears small just click on it to expand to full, readable size). Then come back to read my post below which is unedited, because I stand behind every word.


That’s the premise behind a recent post by a mom blogger titled, To The Mom Who Refuses To Put A Cover On. In her piece she responds to a post by a mom who doesn’t cover, chastising her along with all moms who do that. She also posts a photo of the non-covering mom which I view as a distasteful public shaming. I suggest you read her post prior to reading mine because you’ll enjoy mine much more if you’re drunk with rage, as I am. I’ll wait.

Sorry, I should have warned you that she featured a veiny, milk-bloated, almost-but-not-totally-naked boob photo in her post. I hope none of you men broke your screen trying to dive into your computer or worse, your phone, hoping to dislodge that infant so you could slurp slurp slurp on that dribbly nipple. Forget the men, that image is enough to turn any — nay, every, woman into a lesbian. Boobs can do that. No they can. It happens every day. Google that shit.

Seriously, how do I even address her post without a ridicule and profanity laden rant?

Let me start by disclosing that my wife breast feeds anytime and anywhere my son expresses hunger or irritability, and she doesn’t cover. For a few weeks after he was born she covered, but I discouraged her from doing so. That is to say, I encouraged her to breast feed publicly, with no cover. I know it’s crazy, telling my wife to bare her breast for all the lustful men and boys who might stare at her. Worse, it would put her at risk of causing a riotous mass masturbatory session to break out in the middle of the mall. What other recourse does a man have if he sees some of a breast that’s only partially covered by a baby?

Breast Feeding

My GOD woman, we’re at the mall! During Christmas season! People who don’t understand the concept of Amazon Prime are here shopping for presents! And you’re *gasp* feeding your child without smothering him half to death under a blanket. Do you think The Virgin Mary just whipped out her lady lumps in the manger and fed baby Jesus in front of three lecherous wise men? Of course she didn’t. Because the lord made her breasts mostly to attract men and also because virgins that have babies are make-believe. That story is part of a broader fictional narrative created by man.

Clearly my wife has no shame. And for good reason, because a woman’s breast is not cause for shame, covered or not. In fact, a woman’s breast is a magical thing because it provides nourishment for a child in a way that nothing else can (via breastmilk or by generating undocumented income in the form of countless one dollar bills). Breast milk is unfathomably superior to formula and benefits both mother and child. Yes, I know that the mom blogger’s post isn’t anti-breastfeeding. It’s just that the upside of breast milk warrants mentioning, because it’s the only aspect of the breastfeeding conversation that needs to be mentioned by anyone. Long before our son was born we agreed that he’d be breastfed. We also agreed that he wouldn’t be an anchor that forced us to stay at home for months. From his first week we were taking him out of the house anywhere we needed or wanted to go. Obviously my wife had to feed him so she bought one of those covers that’s easy and convenient to use — unless you forget it at home, leave it in the car, or want your baby to stop crying quickly by putting him on your breast without fumbling with some dumbass cloth pretzel. If you don’t have the cover then you can just utilize any jacket or baby blanket you happen to have nearby. Who cares if your baby’s head is sweating like a pig in a fleece pullover because it’s hotter than Afghanistan in August under there. The important thing is that a stranger not be forced to glimpse some of your breast. Or, the important thing might be for people to mind their own fucking business and look elsewhere if they don’t like it.

The attempts at covering frustrated my wife much of the time, which in turn frustrated me. I’d get annoyed and start lecturing her about how she shouldn’t be such a prude and just feed the goddamn baby, because I’m a kind, sensitive man who communicates in a mature and healthy way. Eventually, she overcame her self-consciousness and unleashed her evil nipples on all of mankind, much to my delight. At that point it was game on, and the tata’s were boldly displayed anywhere we went.

breastfeedingAt sushi enjoying the Nipple Hand Roll.

breastfeedingIn the Navy, you can sail the seven seas,
In the Navy, you can suck on mom’s tit-tees.

breastfeedingOn a hike, enjoying lunch with mommy and daddy.
Hey, at least her other boob is covered.

Now that I’ve expressed my sarcasm and disdain to an appropriate degree, along with showcasing my wife’s naked boobs for all the world to see, allow me to address some specific quotes from the anti-uncovered breastfeeding blog.

“I stumbled across an article of a woman breastfeeding her baby in public without a cover. Like, full on bare-breasted in a restaurant right in the middle of the room, type of a thing.  My jaw dropped as I looked at the picture. What in the world was this mom thinking? What was her reasoning for doing this?”

Let me clarify her reason for you ma’am. Her reason is none of your fucking business. How and where she decides to breastfeed is her decision based on her own comfort level and what’s best for she and her baby. You could call the police for public indecency, but the only state you might get traction in would be Idaho which, lets face it, isn’t a real place. However, it is where I suggest you move to protect your fragile eyes from other women’s bare breasts.boobmapThis map clearly shows that, in spite of it’s flaws,
America is pretty consistent when it comes to breastfeeding laws.

“This whole refusing-to-wear-a-cover-while-nursing-in-public trend has been bothering me for some time now. You see, there have been several moments over the past 6 months where I have encountered mothers nursing without covers and without fail, every single time I have felt uncomfortable and offended by it.”

Actually, this quote is the only part of the blog post I actually enjoyed because your discomfort and offense makes my wife breastfeeding without a cover all the more enjoyable. In fact, please send me your daily itinerary so I can quit my job to drive my wife around full-time to wherever you are. I’ll also starve my son so that he’s voracious when we arrive, requiring that he feed on two naked breasts simultaneously. You’ll have to file a restraining order against my wife’s nipples. And I hope that every man in your life is there so that all of their eyeballs pop out of their heads, which I will then collect to use as X-mas ornaments. If my wife is unavailable to accommodate your schedule, I’m going to get breast implants, fill them up with milk, and breastfeed anyone who’s thirsty right in front of you. If you look at me sideways I’m going to lacto-squirt you right in your forehead. Will that make you uncomfortable?

“I have seen so many posts praising women for “baring it all,” but what is the purpose? Is she making a point that she doesn’t need to follow a certain code of conduct while out in public? Is she making a statement that it’s her body and she will do what she pleases with it — whenever, wherever?”

She is making a point. It’s that she doesn’t need to follow your code of conduct while out in public. Just because you follow a repressed, Puritanical belief that a bare breast is offensive doesn’t mean the rest of us have to follow suit. As for a code of conduct, it would appear that your Christian code of conduct involves posting a blog that openly judges and shames someone who doesn’t breastfeed in a manner that you find appropriate. Is that what Jesus would do?

By the way, I hope you don’t wear a bathing suit in public, or red lipstick, yoga pants, anything that shows cleavage, or even form fitting clothing. If you do, you’re making a statement that it’s yoru body and you’ll do whatever you please with it, whenever, wherever. If you do, I think your husband should question why you’re trying to get attention from and attract other men, because that’s what god designed all of those things to do, turn on men. Also, all other insecure women should write a blog post about your offensive behavior as it’s clearly making them uncomfortable. In fact, I think we all agree that the only appropriate outfit for women to wear in public is…

burkaDamn baby, I like the way your forehead looks in them drapes.

…and by “we all” I mean you and ISIS.

“Is she trying to make a statement that breasts are made for feeding a child, therefore I shouldn’t be bothered when my husband or son are staring at her breasts?”

So, if your husband is staring at my wife’s boobs it’s her fault? She does have a fabulous rack so she could be blamed for that, but I’m pretty sure that his eyeballs are out of her control (Wait, unless my wife is Kilgrave. OMG. Is my wife Kilgrave?!?). Apparently, his eyes are also out of his control since he’s compelled to stare at other women’s boobs while they’re breastfeeding. Might I suggest he learn to:

A) hide the fact that he’s staring from you
B) stare only when you’re not present
C) speak to a professional about his attraction to breastfeeding moms?

By the way, unless your husband is gay, he is looking at other women’s boobs, their butts, legs, lips, eyes, hair, and every other imaginable body part, regardless of whether or not it’s covered. Because he is a man and we are visual creatures whose eyes are attracted to the female form. If you think he’s consumed with gazing longingly at you all the time (at least until a bare breast makes an appearance), you live in a fantasy world reserved for the most naive of women.

I’m going to digress here for a moment to express something that might offend all women who breastfeed, for which I do not apologize in the slightest. Breastfeeding is not sexy. You may be beautiful and glowing from recently giving life to a brand new human. You may be providing that human with the sustenance he/she needs to grow healthy and strong which is a beautiful thing. But your drippy, milk engorged breast with big blue veins and a slightly odd shape being sucked on by an infant doesn’t give me a boner. I love that you breastfeed. I applaud you for breastfeeding. I will fight for your right to breastfeed. But I won’t stare at you breastfeeding because, although it’s a beautiful act on so many levels, it’s not a turn-on. It’s just kind of weird to look at, from a man’s point of view. (However, I cannot speak for that mom blogger’s husband.)

“They keep feeding us the pitch; “our breasts were made to do this. It’s normal. It’s natural. It shouldn’t bother anyone.” Um, yeah, about that. Yes, it’s true that a woman’s breasts were made to produce milk to feed her child, but ALSO, a woman’s breasts were made to turn a man on. That’s the way God designed us. (Read Song of Solomon, Chapter 7. It clearly talks about the way God made men and the way that they view a woman’s body). That’s the way God designed men.”

This particular statement is difficult for me to refute but only in the sense that arguing with religious people is like, well, arguing with religious people. Per my response to her previous quote, we do agree on the fact that men are attracted to women. Obviously I don’t base that statement on the designs of a make-believe omnipotent being but rather the biological need for sexual attraction in order to perpetuate our species.

By the way, the Song Of Solomon is amazing in the same sense that Donald Trump is an “amazing” candidate for President.

“God made our breasts (our entire body for that matter) as a feature for our husbands to enjoy.They don’t just enjoy our breasts, they are turned on by them. And what happens when a man is turned on? Welp, if you don’t know, I’ll break it down nice and easy. SEX. Sex leads to babies, and babies lead to nursing our children. That is how we were designed! And this is partly where my frustration lies. I don’t want my husband to see another woman’s breasts (whether a baby is attached or not), and I certainly don’t want my son to see that either.”

Ok, I just can’t. “God” didn’t make your body. Evolution made your body. And your husband’s body. And evolution designed your husbands body to ensure the survival of the species by making him want to have sex with most, if not all, women. Not just his wife. Yes, your breasts are part of the physical package that (theoretically) turns him on, and may even be at the top of the list of attributes that attract him to you. Just FYI, covered or not, other women’s breasts still excite him. He’ll probably never ever ever ever admit it, but he wants to motorboat some of those women. He wants to put his face between their bazongas, shake his head back and forth, and blow raspberries like a little baby. He wants to pretend like he’s the nursing baby. No amount of your wanting, hoping, wishing, or praying is going to change that. On some level you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be so concerned that he might see another woman’s breast. You might as well either want other women not to exist altogether, or for your husband to have his eyes plucked out by a raven (I assume that’s in the bible somewhere). Understand that he’s attracted to other women even when they’re not feeding their child. Hopefully he’s attracted to other women especially when they’re not feeding their child. Your insecurity doesn’t prevent that. Your insecurity, at the visual stimulation provided by other women, certainly doesn’t prevent that. Because, although your husband pleasures himself behind your back to the mental images of other women, he’s likely/hopefully not acting on it in real life. That’s how adult men work, biologically and socially speaking. Although he wants to have sex with most, if not all, other women, he doesn’t because he developed in a social environment that practices monogamy. He may have impulses, but he doesn’t act on those impulses. Unless of course he’s cheating on you as you read this which then makes my argument moot.

You can’t fault other women for your husband’s attractions. Rather than chastising them for breastfeeding without a cover, how about asking him to look away? Problem solved. 

As for your son, go ahead and repress him. “Protect” his fragile psyche from the vision of partially exposed breasts or any other image you deem “sexual”. Keep him in a bubble and pray over him so that he never searches the internet for pictures or videos of naked women. That’s a totally realistic approach to raising a child who is psychiatrically well balanced and has a healthy view of sex and women’s bodies. It’s a known fact that sheltering your children from everything causes them to develop normally. He certainly won’t grow up to be a chronic shame-filled masturbator or an awkward religious perv (see: Josh Duggar). He’ll grow up to be the perfect little Christian gentleman that you’re forcing helping him to be.

Ah, I’m starting to feel much better. Usually I wouldn’t call out a specific individual, particularly one my wife actually knows, but this warranted a response. See, I’m the guy proudly sitting next to the woman breastfeeding with no cover because she’s my wife. I’m looking at one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen and my heart is filled with so much love that her partially bare breast doesn’t even register. Don’t get me wrong, I know that it might register with other people. Those people might choose to throw a dirty look in our direction, or even a loud “Hmph” if they’re so inclined. But I dare them to say a negative word to my wife. I fucking dare them. Because if they’ve never experienced being reduced to a withered puddle of tears in public they’re about to find out how it feels. I’ll show them what it truly means to feel uncomfortable and offended.

Look, we live in a free society and I not only respect, but will fight for your right to exercise the 1st Amendment and communicate your opinion on a blog, even if it’s stupid. I might not even comment on it, except for when shames my wife and calls her behavior into question. In that case, you asked for it.

In addition to attacking women who breastfeed without adhering to her insecure, psuedo-religious standards, the author is also contributing to the weakening of society. This culture of the social warrior/morality police/PC fuckwits, what I refer to as “professional victims”, desperately want to be offended by something to give them purpose in life. It’s pathetic. You belittle yourself when you cry about shit that doesn’t actually effect you. You also belittle real victims of legitimate wrongdoing. Plus you’re teaching your children to be weak, overly sensitive beings who will spend their lives finding any reason to be hurt by other people’s words and actions. Try focusing on yourself, and your behavior, and lead by example rather than chastising people for how they are “wronging” you with the way they live their lives. Stop being such a pussy.


That’s a wrap my friends. Unless you’re a lactating breast, then it’s an unwrap. Peace.


If you love me, or better yet, hate me, check out Superior Podcast, the new weekly recording I’m going with comedian Hal Sparks. It’s at http://superior.libsyn.com and will be available to subscribe on iTunes and Stitcher shortly.

Twitter: @frankprather

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I Change Diapers, They Don’t Change Me

I Change Diapers, They Don’t Change Me

Before Frankie Four was born I was told countless variations of the following: “The baby will take over your life,” “You’re never going to sleep again,” “Nothing is ever going to be the same,” and every other version of “Being a parent is great but you are a victim who is totally at the mercy of your baby.”

Now, just after hitting the one month mark, I can unequivocally say that people are soft and terrible at life, because this baby shit is easy. Literally. I change about 600 diapers a day and the shit, it’s easy. He eats, he shits, and he sleeps, not necessarily in that order. What he doesn’t do is present a great many insurmountable challenges. Granted, the sleep schedule is inconvenient but I did what any sensible person would do.

I got my baby addicted to sleeping pills and I’m finding that quite restful.

Obviously I’m kidding. He almost choked to death when I tried to get him to swallow the sleeping pills. Since he was so uncooperative, my wife and I had to figure out our own system which has been working very well.

Lisa is breastfeeding so we’d done a lot of research and every “expert” said, “Don’t introduce a bottle or a pacifier before he’s at least a month old because it will cause nipple confusion.” So I decided to do the exact opposite and realized that it absolutely does cause nipple confusion—

if you have a stupid baby.

Fortunately, my kid, even at two weeks, was able to differentiate between a pacifier, a bottle, and a HUMAN BREAST THAT’S ATTACHED TO HIS MOTHER. If your baby is unable to do this, don’t blame yourself *cough*weakgenes*cough*.

Bad Ass DadFour, “So you’re telling me that some babies can’t tell this…”

Bad Ass Dad“or this….”

breast“From THIS?!?”

Bad Ass Dad“Your baby sounds dumb. Does he even know how to read yet?”

Four is so advanced that we were able to introduce the bottle very early on. Thus, we have developed a system that affords both of us a reasonable number of consecutive sleep hours. Lisa breast feeds him all throughout the day, right up until the “final” feeding around 9pm, then heads to the bedroom and closes herself off from the world. I turn all of the lights down low and put Four to sleep in the co-sleeper, which I’ve rolled into the living room. If I’m tired, I crash on the sofa. If not, I watch a little TV until I doze off. Initially he’d wake up around 11 or 11:30pm to eat, although now that’s stretched to around midnight. I put a bottle in the warmer and change his diaper while we wait for his milk to hit titty temp. Once I feed him he’s usually restless for 30-40 minutes then konks out again for another 2-3 hours. By the time he’s ready for his next meal, Lisa has had 5-6 solid hours of restful sleep and I’ve gotten a few winks myself. At that point I wake up Lisa and we switch. She hits the living room, feeds him and naps on the couch. I lock myself in the bedroom for some real sleep. Assuming it’s around 2am, and I’m going to wake up at 7, I also get at least 5 consecutive hours. Now, 5 hours isn’t a full night in anyone’s book, but add to that 4-ish hours of intermittent sleep and we’re just as rested as a lot of people who don’t even have kids.

I told Lisa from the moment we decided to have a baby that he would integrate into our life, not consume it. We would get enough sleep, continue working, exercise, eat right, and not be stuck in the house like prisoners. Check, check and double check to all of the above. It boggles my mind to hear that some people don’t do this. It’s like they’ve brought home a tiny warden who has sentenced them to an ambiguous amount of time in the pen.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re not living our “normal” life exactly as it was before, but we haven’t given up anything either. I’m fortunate in that my bosses are all family people and have been letting me work from home. Lisa’s mom, Susie, is next door and a huge amount of help. But all I heard before this baby was, “Get X in now because you won’t be doing it again for a while.” I thought a lot about that the third day after we’d brought him home from the hospital, while I was at Crossfit working out. When I got home that evening and was eating salmon with roasted vegetables that Lisa had made for dinner, we discussed how much our normal daily routine had been destroyed by bringing home a newborn.

Lisa: How was Crossfit?

Me: Great, I’m starving. 

Lisa: Don’t worry, dinner is ready.

Me: Cool, you want to watch “Blacklist”?

Lisa: Sure, but I have to tell you, this is already becoming really difficult for me to handle.

Me: Having a baby?

Lisa: No, this situation between agent Keen, her ex-husband, and Reddington. 

Now, Four is about to hit 6 weeks old. He’s been to restaurants for lunch multiple times. He’s attended a small dinner party. He spent Easter morning picnicking on the beach. He’s been to the park at least a dozen times to watch mommy work out. He’s been to Target, Trader Joe’s, and the baby clothes store. He’s ridden in the car from Manhattan Beach to Claremont to visit his grandpa. He stayed home one evening with grandma so mommy and daddy could go for sushi. His feet have touched sand, grass, and concrete. Soon he’ll come to watch daddy do Crossfit and shortly thereafter attend his first Spartan Race where he will stay in his first hotel. He is living his life by living our life, and will continue to do so because he’s a goddamn baby and doesn’t have any choice. Luckily for all of us, he enjoys it. I know that he enjoys it because he looks me straight in the eye, smiles a lot, and babbles sounds that I translate into him saying, “These are things I like, daddy…”

Bad Ass DadMy Batman shirt.

bad ass dadLifting weights at the park.

bad ass dadGetting my diaper changed in the trunk.

baby turtleDoing my turtle impression.

bad ass dadTaking selfies with daddy.

bad ass dadGetting weird with mommy.

bad ass dadShowing off my neck strength like a boss.

bad ass dadWearing my stunna shades.

bad ass dadFolding laundry (sucks).

bad ass dadWatching my dad do dumb shit with me.

bad ass dadShowing disdain for other humans, just like daddy.

But most of all, I love…

bad ass dadMy mommies kisses.

What it comes down to is that our lives are better than ever. So good, in fact, that it makes me wanna puke.

A video posted by Frank Prather (@frankprather) on