The Break-Up Journal: Stuck in the belly of a whale

August 27—Ahh, back home. And I suppose I’m okay with that. Actually, we got out just in time. There’s a huge hurricane on its way to Nassau today. And, of course, I did miss my little bunnies. It was so nice to see them tonight when we came in.

Our flight was fine. No real airport troubles aside from some asshole security officer not allowing me to take a salami sandwich past a certain point. He says, “You can take chicken but you can’t take salami.” Okay then, my other sandwich is chicken. Of course they were both $20 dollar gourmet salami and St. Andre cheese sandwiches and I was pissed off that they wouldn’t let me eat it in that area either. More non-sensical rules where they treat common people like common cattle. It’s not like I’m importing a whole pig.

We stopped at the old Colony Diner on the way home after Rapid Rover dropped us off and after we saw the dog and unloaded P’s junk. I love the way P said, “Would you like me to drive you home so we can spend a little more time together?” So sweet, but hard to believe because I know he likes to be home. In his own home. And that he’s probably burnt out on me.

Anyway, he seemed OK, so I went with it. We came back to my place and saw the kids. P made up some pretty elaborate stories of him being stuck in the belly of a whale and running for office. This aspect of him reminds me so much of my father. My father always told wild stories like that. He once wrestled a shark. He climbed to the top of the Empire State Building. He swam with dolphins. I never knew what to believe. After “Jonah” was done his wild storytelling, Liam hypnotized him and took his shoes and keys and hid them in the garage.

Now, I’m getting ready to head over to the computer to write out the list of work I did on the house.
Taken from: The Break-Up Journal

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