Tom from England loves showing affection to his young son, Roman. However, when their sweet moments were shared on social media, not everyone was happy.
Some people criticized Tom for kissing his five-year-old son on the lips, accusing him of confusing his child. But Tom, from northern England, isn’t backing down. He’s using humor and simple logic to fight back against the trolls. Roman supports his dad, telling the critics, “You are all crazy!”
The bond between a parent and child is special and helps shape the child’s morals, principles, and personality. Every parent has their own way of raising their children, influenced by factors like culture, socioeconomic status, health, or personal preference.
Tom, from Yorkshire, England, is a loving father of two. He doesn’t let the negative comments from trolls affect his parenting style. He often posts videos on TikTok and gets a lot of attention from women who admire his blue eyes, accent, fit and tattooed body, and most importantly, his love for his sons, 5-year-old Roman and Raphael Reign, who was born in mid-May 2023.
A lot of Tom’s videos on TikTok show him addressing accusations that he’s confusing Roman and putting him in danger of strangers or infections.
But Tom won’t give up.
On June 27, a user told Tom, “Just gorgeous both but don’t kiss him on the lips.” Tom responded by saying he would continue showing his five-year-old son love as long as Roman allowed it. Tom said, “I find it worrying that it bothers you. I will kiss my son, my five-year-old child, on the lips for as long as I deem necessary and as long as he lets me, right, because I love him to bits and he’s my best pal. One day he won’t want me to, and he probably won’t want much to do with me. So, for now, I’ll carry on as I am.”
Fans shared supportive comments like, “Love kisses with my kids and now my granddaughter–the people who think it’s wrong are the worry xx.” Another person, who lost her father, said: “Absolutely ridiculous! I always kissed my dad on the lips, and I lost him 2 years ago. I wish I could cuddle him and kiss him again.”
Tom replied to the kind comments, saying, “He is the most loving little boy, and it’s because we raise him with love. Thank you for these comments.”
However, one user’s outrageous accusation got a quick response from Tom. The person wrote, “Shouldn’t kiss him because of the bacteria in your mouth. Did you know you can make your child more susceptible to cavities if you have them and kiss them?”\
In a popular post with almost 123,000 likes, Tom shared a witty message: “Wow. So if I kiss my 5-year-old son on the lips, he’ll get cavities. He’ll get cavities from his daddy kissing him.” Tom then asked Roman what he thought. Giggling, Roman replied, “Don’t be silly!” and kissed his dad on the lips.
Fans had a lot to say about the unfounded claim that Tom kissing Roman could cause cavities. One person wrote, “Omg …who educated that person…you kiss away, you two,” while another added, “That is soooo ridiculous…and I work with a dentist. Carry on being the loving dad you are… your son is so cute.”
In early July, Tom posted a viral video of him and Roman sitting in a car, with nearly 579,000 likes. In the video, Tom said, “Don’t worry. Absolutely nothing’s going to change.” He then turned to his son and asked, “Roman, what do you think of people who say you shouldn’t kiss me on the lips?”
Roman responded emphatically, “You are all crazy. That’s my daddy!” The video ended with the pair sharing a sweet kiss.
Fans jumped in defending the cause of his post, and supporting the father, one writes, “Some people are just sick he is adorable and would soon tell ya when he gets older if he didn’t like it.” Another writes, “we kiss on the cheeks in my culture, but i really love that father-son relationship.”
One user chimed in and speaking to the Yorkshire father’s trolls, she asked “have you a problem with him kissing him on the lips because he is a man? Because if this was his mom, I’m sure you wouldn’t.”
Responding to the comment and thanking the woman for highlighting the issue, Tom said, “I’ve genuinely been curious about this because it’s something I’ve thought about too. I don’t think anyone would say anything if it was a mom kissing her little boy. For some reason, when it’s a dad kissing his son, people always have something to say, and I don’t understand why—it’s always this weird minority.” He added, “I’m glad a woman brought this up, so I really appreciate that. And I’m not changing anything.”
In another video, Tom looks visibly frustrated as he responds to a comment suggesting that kissing his son could make the boy vulnerable to dangerous strangers. The commenter wrote, “Don’t kiss your children on the lips, fact. Because not all humans have the right intentions. Do you see what I’m saying? Don’t make it acceptable!”
Tom joked in his response, “So the logic here is, if I kiss my five-year-old, he will think that he can go off and it’s okay to kiss strangers, strange adults… obviously!” Holding back his laughter, he continued, “So let’s apply that logic. I can’t have him in my car anymore to take him places because he could get in a stranger’s car and think that’s normal. He can’t live in my house anymore…well he could just walk into a stranger’s house and think that that’s normal.”
Then, the devoted dad suggested a different approach: “Or we could, now hear me out, we could… teach him that he’s got a mummy and a daddy and kissing them is normal but kissing dodgy Barry down the road is a bit weird.”
Most people in his online community support Tom and love seeing the affection he shows his son. They’re happy that Tom doesn’t back down to online trolls who have no right to tell him how to parent.
What do you think about dads kissing their children on the lips? Do you think it’s okay for moms to do the same?
When My MIL Handed Me a ‘Good Wife’ Rulebook on My Wedding Day, My Husband Got Rich!
You think you’re entering a dream when you marry the person you love. But that dream can quickly become a nightmare when you receive a list of rules about how to be a “good wife.” This is where my revenge started.
As a child, I always imagined that marriage would be different. I pictured Sunday mornings in bed, sharing laughs and secrets, and a partnership based on love and respect. But reality has a strange way of surprising you.
Dan and I had just gotten married. The wedding was perfect—small, intimate, everything I had always dreamed of. For a while, it felt like a fairy tale. Dan was kind and funny, and I truly believed we shared the same ideas about how we wanted to live our lives together. That was until Karen, his mother, gave me a gift after the ceremony.
I remember standing in our living room, still feeling happy from the wedding, when Karen came up to me with her “special” present.
“This is for you, Lucia. A little something to help you as you start your new role.” She handed me a fancy box with a big smile, but her eyes didn’t match her cheerful expression.
Inside the box was a neatly folded piece of paper. When I opened it, my mouth dropped. At the top, in bold letters, it said: “How to Be a Good Wife for My Son.”
At first, I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Maybe Karen was making fun of those old-fashioned ideas about marriage.
But as I kept reading, my smile faded. It was a real list—actual rules I was supposed to follow as Dan’s wife.
I looked at Dan, hoping he’d be as shocked as I was, but he was busy opening his own gift. A check. A big one, too. And me? I got a rulebook.
Later that evening, Dan came to me with a sheepish grin. “You got the rules my mom gave you, didn’t you?” he asked, as if it were just a casual suggestion, not a guide for a life of serving him.
“Yep… I did,” I replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but not succeeding.
Dan shifted awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you know, that’s just how it is now. Marriage is different from dating.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile, to say it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
“Wait… You’re serious?” I asked, looking at him like I didn’t recognize the man I had just married.
He shrugged. “It’s just how things are. Mom says it’s important to keep order, you know?”
I bit my lip, holding back a sharp reply. Keep order. That’s how they saw me now?
After Dan fell asleep, I read through the list again, my hands shaking with anger. I couldn’t believe the nerve.
At 6 a.m., I had to be fully dressed and made up, cooking a hot breakfast for Dan. No veggies, no milk, no butter—he only likes plain eggs and toast. The toast must be perfectly golden brown, and it has to be served on a blue plate because the green one ruins his appetite.
Do all the grocery shopping myself. Dan hates shopping, and it’s no place for a man. Always buy his favorite beer, but not too much—just enough for football nights, but not so much he gets lazy. And I had to carry everything in myself because it’s unladylike to ask for help.
After dinner, the kitchen had to be spotless before Dan even left the dining room. Men shouldn’t see a mess; they must enter a clean space. And always stack the plates by size, wiping the counters twice because Dan hates crumbs.
Dress conservatively when Dan’s friends come over. We don’t want them thinking I’m too “modern” or that I’m not the “right kind of wife.” A good wife never wears anything above the knee, and the neckline should always be high. Anything else would embarrass Dan in front of his buddies.
Make sure Dan never does his laundry. A good wife always has fresh, ironed clothes ready, and socks folded just right—three folds, not two—because that’s how Dan likes them. He should never have to pick out mismatched socks or wear a wrinkled shirt. It reflects poorly on me if he does.
By the time I finished reading, I was furious. This wasn’t just outdated advice; it was a full-on expectation that I cater to Dan’s every wish like I had no other purpose.
And the worst part? Dan was okay with it. He hadn’t even reacted when I mentioned the rules.
I felt trapped, but I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to play this game, I’d play along, but on my terms.
The morning after I read Karen’s list, I woke up at 6 a.m., just like the rules said. I got out of bed, put on my makeup, and slipped into a nice dress.
I looked at myself in the mirror, quietly laughing at how silly this all was. But if Karen wanted me to play this part, I would—just with a twist.
I went downstairs and made breakfast, just like the rules said: plain toast and eggs. But I didn’t stop there. I took the tiniest slice of toast and a plain boiled egg and put them on Dan’s huge blue plate. The plate was so big that the small meal looked ridiculous.
I carefully set it on the table, smiling sweetly as Dan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
He looked at the plate, confused. “Isn’t there… anything else?”
I shook my head, smiling brightly. “Just following the rules. Plain eggs and toast! Want me to make another slice?”
Dan sighed, picking up the toast. “No… this is fine.”
I stood there watching him eat the driest breakfast ever, trying not to laugh. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.
Later that afternoon, I made a big show of going to the grocery store. I took my reusable bags and left the house, making sure Dan saw me go by myself, just like the rules said.
When I got back, I carried in all the bags myself, even the heavy ones. Dan watched from the couch, clearly uncomfortable but saying nothing. As I unpacked, he frowned.
“Where’s the beer? Did you forget it?” he asked.
“Oh no, I didn’t forget,” I said cheerfully. “I just didn’t want you getting lazy. Besides, sparkling water is good for you!”
I pulled out a six-pack of sparkling water, a big bottle of green juice, and some quinoa, knowing he wouldn’t touch any of them. Dan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. I could see he was starting to realize something was off, but I was just getting started.
After dinner, I followed the other rules in the letter. I wiped down the counters, washed the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen—but not really.
Instead of putting everything back where it belonged, I rearranged the whole kitchen. Plates went in the bathroom cupboard, utensils in the laundry room, and the toaster? I put that in the hall closet.
Dan came into the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Why is everything all over the place?”
I turned to him with a worried look. “I’m doing my best! Maybe I need to wipe the counters three times instead of two?”
He blinked at me, totally confused, but he let it go. The fun was just beginning.
When Dan’s friends came over for football night a few days later, I made sure to follow Karen’s rule about dressing modestly. I dug through my closet and found the most old-fashioned outfit I could: a long skirt, high-collared blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan that looked like something from the 1800s.
As soon as Dan’s friends arrived, I walked into the living room with a tray of snacks. His friends looked me up and down, confused but polite enough not to say anything.
Dan pulled me aside as soon as he could, whispering, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”
I widened my eyes innocently. “But your mom said I have to dress modestly. We wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea about me, would we?”
Dan’s friends exchanged awkward glances, but I kept smiling sweetly. The look on Dan’s face was priceless; he was starting to see that I was flipping this whole “good wife” idea upside down, and he was stuck going along with it.
Laundry day came, and I followed the rules again, but with a twist. I washed all of Dan’s clothes together: whites, darks, colors—everything went in one load. When I pulled them out, his once-clean shirts were now a lovely shade of pink, and his socks were either shrunk or mismatched.
Dan opened his drawer the next morning, pulling out one wrinkled pink shirt after another. “What happened to my clothes? These socks don’t even match!”
I walked in with an apologetic look. “Oh no! I must’ve messed up. I’ll try folding them in threes next time, just like the rules say.”
He groaned, putting on his mismatched socks before heading to work, completely defeated. I couldn’t help but smile.
By the end of the week, Dan had had enough. He was trying to eat yet another bland breakfast when Karen arrived, her usual smile on her face. She sat at the table, looking pleased.
“Lucia, I’m so glad to see you following the rules! Isn’t life easier now?”
I laughed quietly. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”
Dan slammed his fork down, surprising both of us. “Mom, we need to talk.”
Karen blinked, confused. “Talk about what?”
“These rules… they’re crazy,” Dan said, his voice rising. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this isn’t how we’re going to live.”
Karen looked shocked. “But, Dan, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of! I thought this was how marriage should be!”
Dan shot me a glance, and I shrugged. I was just following the rules, right?
“We need to find our own way,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re my wife, not my maid.”
Karen’s face fell, her smile fading. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t mean to upset you both…”
But it was too late. The damage was done. We spent the next few days talking about what we wanted our marriage to look like, finally finding a balance between his mom’s outdated ideas and our modern life.
The change didn’t happen overnight, but eventually, we found a way to laugh about the whole ordeal, especially when Dan had to explain to his mom why he was now making breakfast for me on Saturdays.
Karen never brought up the rules again, and I made sure to return the fancy box she gave me, filled with the crumpled paper and an assortment of mismatched socks. I told her I didn’t need them anymore.
Looking back, I can’t help but think that her gift, while ridiculous, actually brought us closer together. Dan and I learned how to communicate better, and we established what we wanted from our marriage without anyone else’s rules getting in the way.
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