I would like to take you to the ends of the earth to keep you away from growing up with a mother with only a few brain cells to rub together who only sees you as a trophy and the occasional family court chess piece and a father who spends more time in psychosis than out and who acts like he doesn’t really want you around a lot of the time.
But I can’t. So let’s lie on the floor together and peer through the cat door and talk to the cat who peers back at us and eat frozen tater tots and have grand adventures in the backyard this weekend. I will pretend that it can make some kind of difference in how my heart breaks.
