Advertising Paterfamilias with more than 40 mouths to feed. Sometimes floundering in a world of confusion and despair. Sometimes trying to turn fingernails into porcelain suction cups. Sometimes weighing decisions on which knife to stab into a competitor’s/friend’s back and whether the most suitable one would be one I could pull from my own.
Sometimes a good husband. Always a husband. Sometimes a good father. Sometimes great at both. I am the lucky one. I am the winner here. I try. I try hard.
Moody. Unfiltered. You’ll never have to worry about what I think about something – I’ll tell you. Pained with not being able to do that with those closest to me. Scarred, but healing. Protective. Nurturing, to a point, and then I’ll freeze it off without anesthetic.
Free to roam as far as my leashes will let me. I am the king of the yard, but the mailman, ice cream truck, trash truck and neighbor’s dogs come by my house daily, just out of reach. I’m chewing on my collar, but I will not leave the yard.