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?
My husband was determined to poison the raccoons that kept invading our backyard, but what they pulled from our trash left me completely shocked
My husband set poison traps for the raccoons that raided our backyard, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree. One night, they pulled something from the trash and I was curious. What I saw in the moonlight left me breathless and in tears.
“No, Kyle, please don’t hurt the poor thing!” The words tore from my throat as I watched my husband hurl a stone at a pregnant raccoon waddling across our backyard. The rock missed, thank God. And the animal scurried away, her movements clumsy with the weight of her unborn babies.
Kyle turned to me, his jaw set and knuckles white around another rock. “They’re pests, Josie. The sooner you understand that, the better.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop shaking. After fifteen years of marriage, you’d think I’d be used to his outbursts by now. But every time, it felt like a punch to the gut.
“They’re living creatures, Kyle. They’re just trying to survive.”
He scoffed, tossing the second rock between his hands. “Yeah, well, they can survive somewhere else. I’m sick of coming home to a war zone every day.”
“It’s hardly a war zone. It’s just some scattered trash.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start with me, Josie. Not today.”
The raccoon problem, as Kyle called it, had started last spring. We’d wake up to find our trash cans knocked over and contents strewn across the lawn.
Once, they even climbed onto our deck and raided the leftover barbecue from my birthday party. I didn’t mind much. They were just hungry, after all.
But Kyle took it personally like the animals were deliberately trying to provoke him.
“I’m telling you, we need better locks for the cans,” I suggested one morning as Kyle angrily watched me scoop up the scattered garbage. “Maybe some chicken wire around the garden too. My sister Jane says that worked for them.”
“I don’t care what your sister says. What we need is to get rid of them. Permanently.”
I remembered when we first met, how his spontaneity had seemed charming. Now, at forty, that impulsiveness had morphed into an iron-fisted need to control everything, including me.
“Kyle, please. Can’t we try the peaceful way first?”
He jabbed a finger at me. “You always do this, Josie. Always trying to make everything complicated when there’s a simple solution right in front of us.”
“Simple doesn’t always mean right.”
He slammed the broom against the side of the house. “What was that?”
I flinched. “Nothing. I’ll look into better trash cans today.”
That weekend, I found Kyle in the garage, assembling something metallic.
“What’s that?” I asked, though I already knew. Animal traps.
He didn’t look up. “Insurance. These smart traps will catch anything that comes near our trash.”
“Kyle, please. They could hurt them.”
He slammed down his screwdriver. “That’s the point! I’m so sick of you defending these disease-carrying vermin. You act like they’re some kind of pets.”
“They’re not pets, but they don’t deserve to suffer. Maybe if we just—”
“Maybe if we just what, Josie? Let them take over? Build them a guest house while we’re at it? I’ve had it with your bleeding heart routine.”
I felt tears welling up but forced them back. “Why does everything have to be solved with violence? They’re just hungry animals, Kyle.”
He stood up, his face red. “You want to know what I think? I think you care more about these pests than our home. Than me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? Every time I try to solve a problem, you fight me. The raccoons, the neighbor’s dog that keeps barking all night, even that group of teens that hangs out by our fence.”
“Those are all living beings, Kyle. Not problems to be ‘solved.’”
“This is my house!” he yelled, making me jump. “I work every day to pay for it, to keep it nice, and I’m not going to let some animals destroy it while my stupid wife takes their side!”
When the raccoons started showing up again this spring, Kyle completely lost it.
That evening, I was folding laundry when he stormed in, waving a piece of paper and grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“You’ll never guess what I found at the hardware store. Industrial-grade pest control. Guaranteed to solve our little problem.”
I took the paper. It was a receipt for animal traps and some kind of poison. My hands started trembling.
“Kyle, you can’t be serious. That stuff could kill them!”
He snatched the receipt back. “That’s the point, Josie. God, sometimes I think you’re being dense on purpose.”
“But what if neighborhood cats get into it? Or someone’s dog? We could get in trouble.”
Kyle’s face darkened. “I’ve made up my mind. The raccoons are gone by the end of the week, one way or another.”
I spent that night tossing and turning, my mind racing. When did the man I married become someone who could so casually talk about killing innocent creatures?
I thought about calling Jane, but I already knew what she’d say. She’d never liked Kyle and always said there was something off about him. Maybe I should have listened.
The breaking point came on a quiet Tuesday night two days later. I was reading in bed when I heard rustling outside. Peering through the window, I saw one of the trash cans had been knocked over again.
I slipped on my robe and grabbed a flashlight. As I approached the mess, something caught my eye. It was a black garbage bag, partially open, with something moving inside.
My hands trembled as I reached for it. “Oh no. No, no, no…”
Inside were three tiny raccoon babies, barely old enough to open their eyes. They were squirming weakly.
“Kyle!” I screamed, cradling the bag close. “Kyle, get out here right now!”
He appeared on the porch, looking annoyed. “What are you yelling about? It’s the middle of the night, you crazy woman!”
“Did you do this?” I held up the bag. “Did you throw away baby animals like they were garbage?”
He shrugged. “They’re pests. I’m handling it.”
“Handling it? They’ll die!”
“That’s the point, Josie. Jesus, why are you so naive? They’re just raccoons!”
“Just raccoons? They’re babies, Kyle! Living, breathing creatures that feel pain and fear. How would you feel if someone threw you away to die?”
He laughed, a cold sound that made me shiver. “Now you’re comparing me to a raccoon? How dare you, Josie?”
“I’m comparing you to someone with empathy, and you’re coming up short.”
Kyle stepped closer, his voice a chilling growl that made my blood run cold. “You know what your problem is? You’re soft. Always have been. The world isn’t some fairy tale where we all just get along. Sometimes you have to be tough.”
“Tough? There’s nothing tough about hurting something weaker than you. That’s just cruel.”
I looked at him and wondered how I’d never seen the cruelty that had always been there.
The next morning, I called every wildlife rescue in the area until I found one that could help. A kind woman named Marla showed me how to feed the raccoon kits with a tiny bottle.
“You’re doing great,” she assured me, watching as I cradled the smallest one. “They’re lucky you found them when you did.”
As I watched the kit suckle eagerly, tears rolled down my cheeks. “I just don’t understand how someone could be so cruel.”
Marla squeezed my shoulder. “Sometimes the animals we save end up saving us too.”
That evening, I found Kyle’s journal and a detailed plan for dealing with the “raccoon infestation.” It included poison locations, trap placements, and even a schedule. The methodical cruelty of it made me sick.
When Jane arrived, she saw the journal in my hands.
“Still think I’m overreacting?” I asked, showing her the pages.
She shook her head. “Josie, this isn’t about raccoons anymore. Maybe it never was.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I think I’ve always known.”
The divorce papers were served a week later. Kyle didn’t seem surprised, just angry. As always.
“You’re really throwing me out over some pests?” he spat as he packed his things into boxes.
I stood my ground in the doorway of what was now my house alone. “No, Kyle. I’m ending this because of who you’ve become. Who you’ve always been, maybe, and I just didn’t want to see it.”
Days turned into weeks. The raccoon kits grew stronger.
The smallest one was shy and always hid behind his siblings. The middle one was curious about everything. And the biggest was protective, always watching out for the others.
Marla helped me release them back into the wild when they were ready. As we watched them toddle toward the treeline, I saw movement in the bushes. There, watching us, was their mother.
“Look,” Marla whispered. “She came back for them.”
The mother raccoon chittered softly, and her babies ran to her. Before disappearing into the forest, she turned and looked right at me. In that instance, I felt a connection to something larger than myself. Compassion.
“You know,” Marla said, “there’s an opening at the rescue center if you’re interested. We could use someone with your kindness.”
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years. “I’d like that.”
“You know, Josie, you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. They’re like a mirror that reflects our true selves.”
Looking back, I realized the raccoons hadn’t just been victims of Kyle’s cruelty. They’d been my wake-up call. Sometimes it takes seeing someone else’s vulnerability to recognize your own.
As the raccoons disappeared into the trees, I took a deep breath and felt ready for a fresh start. I knew I deserved better, and that someday, I’d find the right person who saw the world with the same compassion I did.
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