June 2, 2009

• As I sit dying

  As I sit dying I am going over my life's mistakes.  I am waiting to die in the student death center.  A death that should take no more than 3 hours.  I sit dying for not being true to myself, and for that, I am much regretful.  There aren't many things that I would change in my life, but the one that my mind comtemplates is most certainly one of them.  I saw you and knew instantly you were not good enough to play with my son.  However your bouncingn Beyonce curls, big fawning brown eyes, and daddy melting smile made me think that I couldn't break your baby girl heart.  Besides it was too late, he saw you Little Miss Beyonce in Miniature.  He smiled you smiled.  He rubbed his hands all over your snotty face before I could even contemplate whether I should break things up.  My son is too clean to play with the likes of you, germball.

  However, I regret that I didn't move my son away from you to another area of the park where your little devil snot smile couldn't tempt him.  So here I am dying because of you.  I regret not teaching you of heartbreak.  I figured that lesson would come for you all too soon.  I will have you to know that if my son and I survive this assault on our immune system, we won't be associating with the likes of you again.  We aren't the kind to socialize while oozing germ filled snot.  We are better and more compassionate than that.  As I sit dying in a tacky chair, I wish that I would have grabbed my son, slathered him in neosporin and baby wipes and got him away from you.

  • 4:49 pm
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