a strange house. maybe we're moving in. by the side is a garage where i'm sneaking a smoke. j doesn't mind i'm doing it but i'm looking down the deck walk along the house to see if my father arrives. rub out the butt and drop it, see another, can't collect them without scooping up a bunch of dirt and leaves from the floor.
then i'm upstairs putting the kids to bed. a is uncooperative and gets her fourth warning from me which is meaningless, three is the highest it goes. i hear j come in the front door and she screams about how the kids' behavior is making her look like a bad parent, as if to one of their faces, which is strange because the kids are upstairs with me.
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