This summer I picked up a paperback from the library without really paying attention to what it was. Turns out it was The Descendants, the novel that inspired the movie of the same name that won an Academy Award last year.

In the story, the main character is a father who’s spent most of his daughters’ childhoods playing a very hands-off role in their lives, until his wife is lying in a hospital bed in a coma and he is forced to step up and become the sole parent.

I actually took the time to photograph two pages out of the book as I was reading because it made me laugh out loud and I felt the author hit the nail right on the head in her description here of what it’s often like to constantly play the role of parent.

“It must be fun to have girls,” Mrs. Speer says. … “Or maybe you have your hands full.”

“No, no,” I say. “It’s great,” And it is, I suppose, though I feel I’ve just acquired them and don’t know yet. …
“And boys.” I gesture to her little dorks. “They must keep you busy.”

“They’re a handful. But they’re at such a fun age. They’re such a joy.” She gazes out at her boys. Her expression does little to convince me that they’re such a joy. I wonder how many times parents have these dull conversations with one another and how much they must hide. They’re so goddamn hyper, I’d do anything to inject them with a horse tranquilizer. They keep insisting that I watch what they can do, but I truly don’t give a f—. How hard is it to jump off a diving board?

Hahahahahaha!! Yes, call me a black soul, but after being asked to ooh and ahh over the 9zillionth playdoh worm today, a quote like this really hits the spot for me:)

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