thinking about a new life-shortening hobby…

i could look like this, minus the gloves, or maybe not...

i’m thinking about taking up smoking. just so i can look like i have something important to do when i sit on the front stoop of the house at 8:30 while middle and little scream bloody murder because i had the gall to put them to bed. if i hang out in the house, eventually i want to poke my eyes out with big long needles, a la oedipus rex. so, if i sit on the front stoop, i haven’t technically neglected them, like i would if i say… hopped on down the block to the local tavern.

so… i sit on the stoop waiting for a decent amount of time to pass because i said, “I love you. Goodnight. I’m not coming back in this room.”

i open the front door and still, the screaming.

a double decent amount of time.

still, yes, the screaming.

a triple amount…

yes, persistent little #$@*s aren’t they?

so this whole time i could be looking cool on the front stoop like rita hayworth. just chillin with my smokes, enjoying the night air, waiting for the light at the end of the very long tunnel known as all children sleeping.

think i’ll try a book. no?


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now what’s that now?

what’s done is done


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