Yesterday, in the course of a phonecall about seasonal logistics, my mom felt it necessary to mention to me that she'd been chatting with a friend who had seen my dad at lunch with several old cronies, and that the three of them were completely shitfaced, and that my dad had then proceeded to drive home
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I'm rather glad you can't, really. I do not like feeling this angry and disappointed and worried and bitter all at the same time.
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Back atcha, in spades.
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