I don’t think that I want to go to my parent’s house much anymore.  I will plan a Thanksgiving dinner the weekend that I have my son and host it at my house.  I picked up burgers and fries at a pub.  My stomach, which literally never hurts, feels like it has a grease rock in it.  I hauled ass out of their house as fast as I could.  I’m going to have to look for something different for November.  I’m thinking that our Y has a Day Camp, and that is going to be what he has to do.

Sometimes my son gets a little bit entitled.  He complains and gets bossy and refuses tasks.  After I brought him home this evening, he was completely delightful.  Honestly.  He and I talked while I loaded the dishwasher and then we put together one of those giant puzzles that only has a frame that is interlocking and makes the edges.  I talked to him the whole time that he was in the bath, and read him his nightly story.

I asked him if he knew that he was super pleasant, compliant, and sweet after a night or two away from me.  He looked at me with his incredible blue eyes and said, “I didn’t know that.”  I told him that we should concentrate on times like this, so we can have connected and good times.  He told me that he missed me.  I missed him for two nights too.

I still haven’t connected with my girlfriend.  There is a world of difference between one and four kids.  I respect it though, because she does it right.  So, we’ll talk when we can, but I get the impression that she needs some space, so I’ll just wait to hear from her.  I would never do anything to smother or fuck it up.  “Love is like a blanket.  It gets a little bit to warm sometimes.  I want to wrap somebody in it who can hold me in [her] arms.”