A moment of silence.
A bit of quiet reverence.
A prayer to the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
LIGHT A FREAKING CANDLE, PEOPLE.
Whatever works, you know?
I’m letting the 18YO “solo” in my car and drive to a job interview this afternoon.
I’ll be over here doing all of the above.
HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?
I SWEAR, I WAS CHANGING HIS DIAPERS JUST YESTERDAY.
No, really, I did change his diapers just yesterday. See, he’s got a bit of a bladder control problem. He’d rather I not talk about it on the Internet, of course, but with the right liquid intake schedule he usualy manages not to make too much of a mess.
Sorry, Lucas, your father (um… me) deals with stress by making fun of stuff and ridiculous jokes.
You driving my car all alone seems to have sent me into some kind of nuclear holocaust shame spiral.
Also, I’m sorry that before you left I made that joke about you being adopted. That was uncalled for.