Surfing is a notch or two above father-son two-legged races, but it's still not going to garner Dean McDermott any Father-Of-The-Year awards. How do you explain to your son that although you loved and cherished his mother lo the many years of his adolescent life, you didn't love her - or him, or his new little sister - enough to keep your grubby paws off of the first piece of tinsel-dusted Hollywood ass that shook itself in your direction?
That's what I thought. I'm guessing that's why his little boy's crying, right there, in that photo, in the middle of the pounding surf. Sunshine and beachballs don't make the pain go away, Dean. Try cash, instead.
(Photo credit: INO)
