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I’m a Dad. Entrepreneur. Jiu jitsu, fitness, and perfect hair enthusiast. Founder of ToothbrushMe.com

When I moved to Los Angeles it was a novelty being in close proximity to Disneyland. Growing up in Maryland, Disney World in Florida was 900 miles away so it was a full on vacation trip to visit. Living in California and having Mickey Mouse’s house a “quick” drive down the 5 seemed well, pretty magical. Except then I went there on a date with my girlfriend (now my wife) and it was lame. I mean, I’m a grown ass man who just paid a bazillion dollars to wait in line for a fortnight to ride a flying plastic elephant…


Frankie is almost 2.5 years old and still sleeps with us, which is actually something I’ll cover in another blog. However, it’s relevant to this particular post so it warranted mentioning.

We sleep in a platform bed. For clarity, that’s a bed frame with wooden slats upon which our mattress sits directly. There is no box spring which means the sleeping surface is probably a little below the height of the average beds sleeping surface. It’s also not extremely low, meaning that you wouldn’t want to roll off of it onto the floor. Unfortunately for my son, who likes to…


I unstrapped Frankie 4 from his car seat in the gray mini-van. We were in the parking lot at Noah’s Bagels going for a little father-son breakfast. When I asked what kind of cream cheese F4 wanted on his bagel he responded, unsurprisingly, “T-Rex cheese bagel.” Everything with him is either “T-Rex,” or “T-Rex egg,” which I love. So, as I’ve done about every 10 minutes since he was born, I laughed and said, “Give daddy a smooch.” …


Frankie 4 is my son, my main man, my go-to guy, my best buddy, and I spend as much time with him as possible. In fact, someone asked me just the other night what I would do if I could do anything I wanted for the rest of my life. I responded, “Spend time with my son,” because I am a loving father and I knew that “become the ruthless overlord of all mankind” was the wrong answer.

I also know that hanging full time with F4 is not a viable option because, unfortunately, I have to earn a living…


On Christmas Day, my son Frankie will be exactly 22 months old, so basically a grown man. As such, I have very high expectations of him which include, but are not limited to, doing things I can brag about on this blog. Fortunately he has my genes so he excels at everything.

Research says that most kids are physically and emotionally ready to start toilet training between 22 and 30 months. I also read that boys are typically a few months behind girls which I assume to be utter nonsense because, well, I’m male and look at me. …


Frankie Four just hit 20 months old so this was his first real Halloween. I tried to ease him into it by taking him shopping for decorations at the 99 Cent Store. He’s a smart kid so he immediately tried to cover his face lest someone see him shopping at the 99 Cent Store.

The previous year we took him to a Halloween party where he went as a lump of fat that didn’t do anything useful or say any meaningful words (insert Trump joke here).


Sleep is a huge waste of my time. Not everyone’s time, mind you, but certainly mine. Spending 1/3 of my life unconscious deprives me of valuable hours that I could spend being awesome. In fact, you should be just as upset that sleep is depriving you of more me. On the other hand, there are plenty of people who should sleep more than they already are, because their being awake isn’t benefitting any of us. Regardless of all that we, as humans, require a considerable amount of sleep to function at our highest level and to be generally healthy. …


I just did something I swore I’d never, under any circumstances, do once I had a child. It’s difficult to reconcile that I’ve gone against my principles and risked all that I hold dear, gambling both my and my childs well being.

I signed my son up for soccer.

There’s a list of sports I want to kill and soccer holds a place firmly in the top 5 along with golf, tennis, lacrosse, and golf. Yes, golf is listed twice because I harbor double the disdain for this so-called “sport”. It’s a skill, certainly, but not a sport. At least…


I just celebrated my son’s first birthday and spent time reflecting on some of what I’ve learned in the last year.

One of the first things I realized is that the birth of your child is the single greatest experience that exists. I’m not claiming that everyone should have a child, or that you’re wrong if you don’t want them. Most of you shouldn’t. Have them, that is, because look at you. I’m simply saying that the actual birth of a human being, that you created, is impossible to equal with any other experience aside of possibly being born yourself…


As a child, I spent a great deal of time at my grandparents house. I’m not sure there was ever a place where I felt more warmth and comfort than I did when I was there. It wasn’t the actual house, but my grandparents themselves who created that feeling. Even in my adult life, a visit to them takes me back to being a kid, where I am happy, content, and relaxed beyond all measure.

The home they lived in through most of my childhood was three floors. The top floor consisted of a bedroom, a bathroom, my grandfather’s workshop…

Frank Prather

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