Editorial: Don’t forget about Brittney Griner!
I’m the sort of person who doesn’t really have many expectations when it comes to my kids. They’re my main reason for being. Sure, a few things have happened – like them turning seven and I being pregnant with our second child – that have really thrown a wrench into my plans.
We’ve had some really, really good ones, and some pretty bad ones, and, honestly, it all depends on who you ask. They’re really great kids, but they can also really screw things up.
So, as the wife of a player in a major North American sports league, I have to give some props to the kids in my life. Without them, I’d probably be a sad, old man sitting alone on the couch, eating candy and watching re-runs of Lost.
In other news, we had the pleasure of having our baby daughter for the first 13 months of her life. She was born March 7, and we called her “Mila” for the first six months, and then changed it to “Brittney” because she’s like Britney Spears and doesn’t want to be referred to as Britney anymore. And, yes, you read that correctly. Brittney is Britney’s clone.
Brittney was born to our first child, James, who is also our son. But James, the first son, has turned into a huge goofball who loves to dance like he’s Michael Jackson. You can spot him any dance floor across the Western world, he’s a little Rastafarian.
James is our first son, and his parents were both born in Australia. This meant that both of our kids were born out of wedlock. We were kind of surprised. It’s like they were born with a bad birthmark or something. I mean, they’re both fine kids, but they’re not exactly in the right frame of mind to be the best role models.
Brittney’s parents, by contrast, are both great guys
