December 13, 2009

DsD


Armpits


It's all I can do not to make the snarky, dagger-like remarks that come to me so often. They're how I express my pain these days. I just need to inflict it on him, I think.

I should probably swallow them or write them down or wait until the heat's gone out of them, something. Then maybe ask him if he's ready to hear them.

So here's one.

Our son called his father into the bathroom tonight. "Dad, Dad, look! I'm growing hair in my armpits!"

He's four.

My husband said, "I knew Billy wanted to be like his dad, but I never realized how much."

I wanted to say, "Oh? He's having an affair?"

CP

DsD lives and writes in the raw. Trapped in a cave, she tends her cubs by day and licks her wounds at night.

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