On A Bad Day

Whenever I’m having a bad day, I just imagine that I am a gangster dentist, in a eucalypt green colored dental surgery, towering over someone in incredible pain. Nelly’s “Grillz” is blastin’-out the surgery boom box. And I circle my patient, throwing off sterile, gown-cloaked gangster hand gestures, before grabbing the overhead fluorescent light and viscously shining it in and out of their face, in a fit of scholarly rebellion.  

The Man Toddler

He is significantly younger than you. And you think this is great. With his tiny-baby enthusiasm, and his tiny-baby good looks. Ergh, he is so cute, you want to violently shove him into a meat grinder. But you can't. Because that is illegal. So you will continue to pick him up from school, or his mum's house, or the Teletubbie Convention, and gently wipe the gunk out of the corner of his eye. Because that is what you signed up for, Older Craddle Snatchy Woman.