We’ll have to do it someday

 

My Mikey, I love you

∞ • π³ + 1

 

Tomorrow is Elisabeth’s birthday.  She’ll be fifteen years old.

I know now that someday, we’ll have to move to California, whether I like it or not.  Elisabeth said she’d live with us if we found an apartment in Lodi or Sacramento.

We can’t afford that, but we’ll do it anyway, because I have to be completely dominated by one woman or another, might as well be my little hard-headed daughter.

Hard-hearted, too, methinks.  She wants to finish school there.  We’re not fit to be parents, anyway, though, so it really doesn’t fucking matter.  She’s so much happier there than she could possibly THINK of being with us.  Fine.

So we’ll move, on SSI,  because I’m too much of a fucking deadbeat to hold a job, and we’ll bounce from place to place again.  It’s only a sense of security.  It doesn’t matter.

Thank you, darling daughter, for stealing away our happiness.

*says with tightened lips* Love,

Herman, the loser creep who married your mom