Being a specialist in flawed but intermittently captivating parenting.

Getting people to answer questions they would prefer to leave unanswered.

Holding back hair so the contents of young stomachs may be set free.

Repeating gerunds and nominalization until a steady hand cramps and raw cheeks flush.

Stop. Wait. Listen. Pucker. Slam. Sling into the abyss. It doesn’t fucking need to be this way.

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Needing to be heard and hating the need to be heard until silence wins out.

Yes yes a winning personality is to apex capitalism as to a heretical teenaged disposition is to expressive apostasy. But does it get you laid? But do you get to heaven?

Stop. Pucker. Off we go.