Man, that granddaughter knows exactly where to stick the knife. The last time we were there, she got all pouty because we were leaving (she knows Sunday morning breakfast means we’re going home, so she does her best to avoid/delay it), and says to my wife and I:
“I don’t need you. I only need Mommy and Daddy.”
This time around, in between having bouts of wild fun, she turned and told me:
“I don’t like you.”
After a while, you know, while my heart was still oozing on the floor in front of me where it had been ripped out, it became a giggling game, where she was hurting to joke, but maybe not realizing it was hurting.
I tried to play it off, but I’d be lying if I didn’t feel terrible.
It was a bizarre weekend all around, and I feel like maybe I need to pull back a bit. The problem is we love the kid so much, but man, with everything else going on right now, it’s getting very hard not to get emotional over shit like that.
Anyway, more to speak on all this, but the memory is stabbing, so for now, don’t be a jerk to people.
It’s not cool.
Target: 900 words
Written: 88 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Hunter Of Worlds, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: 100 Bullets 41-44
Music: Never Been On MTV, Dead Kennedys