My house. When terrible people die, they are reincarnated as houseplants and sent to die a wretched death all over again here. Somehow, though, the fates have seen fit to also send us two boys (past-life villainy as yet undetermined), and here we are.
We are recent transplants from Seattle to Northern Virginia, where my DW is a government contractor, and I am a stay-at-home-dad and sugar daddy. (Okay, I do some independent SOV and SEO contracting and I review comic books and graphic novels for remuneration. But mostly I’m a sugar daddy.)
Arguably, I’m not good at a lot. I think I’m pretty good at dadding and daddery, and if I’m not, at least I tell my kids I am, which is the same, right?