I admit it. I’ve always been haunted with the images of frumpy dads. Maybe it was the fact that I was surrounded by engineer-type dads in my formative years. Regardless, I’ve had the goal of never being one. This Sunday was a landmark, as now that I’m in my 50s I often wonder how I’m going to stay hip or at least in the vicinity of hip while I journey through the second half-century. While my wife is always quick to suggest outfits, I now have a two-for-one special, as Evie has taken a sudden liking to picking out my outfits.
Between two women, I think I’ve have the antidote to Frumpy Dad Syndrome.