weird (adj.): 1) of strange or extraordinary character. 2) firmly kissing your child on the mouth for so long that it make Bugs Bunny feel uncomfortable. To be honest, I don't particular care how Tom Brady shows affection towards his children. To each their own, as far as I am concerned. That being said, choosing to do so by locking lips with his eleven year old for a longer period of time than his first crush either will or already has is weird. It's not right or wrong. It's not good parenting or bad parenting. It's not particularly heart warming or heart wrenching. It's just...weird, and if you think otherwise then I have some bad news for you, you might even be more weird. Let's, for one second, think about Tom Brady as someone other than a 5-time Super Bowl champion who just so happened to release a reality show-esque look into home life on the cusp of trying to capture ring number six. Imagine he was your run-of-the-mill neighbor, and you showed up to a block party, and as you were mingling he interrupted a game of two-hand touch to plant a big old wet one on his boy that lasted longer than your first sip of beer. If you're honestly telling me you wouldn't stop in your tracks and slowly look around to gauge if others were similarly taken aback before chugging the rest of that beer due to social discomfort? Well, congrats on being a casual fan of interfamilial tonsil hockey. That shit is weird, and failing to admit as much doesn't make you a better or more understanding person. All it really makes you a damned liar who is scared of questioning the ways of a superior athlete that would say "dude, what the hell was that?" if you saw your friend and his/her kid look as though they were auditioning for final act of Romeo and Juliet. And for those that don't think it's right to talk about this, here's a friendly reminder that this video wasn't shot through a window by someone who was lurking in the bushes of the Brady household. I'm sure Tommy boy had final cut on his one-on-one matchup versus time before displaying it to the outside world, and what he chose to release was a strong dose of weird that makes me even more likely to show love to my future son by giving an affectionate jab in the bicep and a "go get 'em, slugger". I'm just calling it like he wanted me to see it, and I'm calling it weird with a capital W.
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