i did a phd under the proviso that i didn't want to teach, only to discover that teaching is the only thing short of the stage that gives me life.
the fireworks go off every night and, every time they do, claude runs to sit on the toilet. god knows why that is his coping mechanism, but i am not one to judge, because my coping mechanism is turning up the volume of mary tyler moore.
one of them told us he did it. after a week of planning, he bought 1,000 tickets to trump's rally in tulsa, and i lean back in the ghost chair that i bought from a girl for $10 last december, bought it in the rain and she was about to move back to memphis, i lean back in this entirely inappropriate chair because claude has laid claim to the chair that came with the desk but now sits against the mirror as his throne, and i think, maybe, just maybe, we're going to be ok.
because the kids are so fucking cool, ya'll. we are so fucking blessed, because they are so fucking cool.