Cotto loses his son in a museum—and finds a new approach to being a good dad.
By Andrew Cotto
Upon hearing that our second child would be a boy, I walked out of the doctor’s office, crossed 8th Avenue, and stepped into a Mexican restaurant to drink something with tequila in it.
Then I drank another.
My wife would have joined in the drinking, but she was far enough along in the pregnancy for a penis to show up on a sonogram. So, I drank, and she inhaled corn chips with guacamole. We knew that mommies and daddies can make both little girls and little boys, but...MORE
By Andrew Cotto
Upon hearing that our second child would be a boy, I walked out of the doctor’s office, crossed 8th Avenue, and stepped into a Mexican restaurant to drink something with tequila in it.
Then I drank another.
My wife would have joined in the drinking, but she was far enough along in the pregnancy for a penis to show up on a sonogram. So, I drank, and she inhaled corn chips with guacamole. We knew that mommies and daddies can make both little girls and little boys, but...MORE
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