I’ve become one of those parents who demand their children go to the bathroom. “But I don’t have to.” “Well, go anyway.
I don’t want you to think I don’t love my extended family. I do. I just don’t want to be around them. Some of this is because I’m a loner. Some of this is because at family gatherings you are forced to face the short genetic distance between you and a clinically insane person.
You want to be there for emotional support, yet everything you say or do ends up irritating the mother-to-be while she is in labor.
If you’ve never been to a Catholic Mass, don’t worry, it’s still going on, you still have time to catch it.
So why a book? Well, since you’ve come into my life, you’ve been a constant source of entertainment while simultaneously driving me insane. I felt I had to write down my observations about you in a book. And also for money, so you could eat and continue to break things.