This just in: I'm becoming my dad.
And I'm good with that.
Something weird is going on.
I started writing this in a hotel bed, my airport clothes laid out by my side: men’s levis, d-ring leather belt, loafers, green socks, white tank, plaid blazer, a new tan CDC heart cardigan. I looked over at this stuff, which has inched its way, piece by piece, into my life, and suddenly, seeing it all together, I thought: I’ve returned to seventh grade. Specifically to prep school.
But then it occurred to me: Maybe I’m just becoming my dad.
How else to explain this fairly sudden and very deep pull toward prep?
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