Come Here, Boy

When I was a child I had several names, they were all horrible but I thought it just games. My dad never called me anything but: son, boy, dummy, and nut. Those are a few that I remember at first, but the list is long and the names get much worse.

He also had cute little sayings he would apply to anything I did, like, “use your head for something besides a hatrack”, was a thing he often said.

“If you had a brain you’d be dangerous” was one of his favorites, he may as well have had it engraved on a bracelet. Now that I think of it, he probably did, I just don’t know because that man hung the moon when I was a kid.

When I became thirty he still hung that moon until the day he came over after lunch in the early afternoon. I was so thrilled when he would stop by….and that in itself shows how this guy completely got into the mechanics of my mind. So on that day, as I watched him play with my babies ages one, two and three, I videoed them while I smiled I really was happy.

Fast forward some years, exactly twelve, cause that’s when I found that video high on some shelves. It was a silver DVD and in black sharpie marker it said, “My Babies”. It took me a while to locate a machine so I could watch that DVD that thus far I hadn’t seen. I suppose that I saw it while it was made but I’m not lying when I tell you my memories were not portrayed at all in this disc, I’m afraid.

In the video I made that I MADE MYSELF, MY DAD WAS FAT SHAMING MY TWO YEAR OLD DAUGHTER THE SIZE OF AN ELF. The sickest part of this whole fucking story is that while he’s doing that, I’m laughing like the shit is funny and I know in my heart on that day I was sick but it still didn’t make me say a fucking word to that dick.

So, I hope beyond hope that he runs across this boat of crushed dreams beyond any measure but then I think that would actually bring him some pleasure.

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