Larry's Journal

Oh Shit

It's the day every man fears, Kaley just came up to me.

"I have a ballet recital."

I don't know shit about ballet.

"I'm going to be a flower and I have to have a costume."

Beautiful, not that I don't mind being a dad, it's one of the things I'm not a complete failure at.  But fuck me.  A flower?  Ugh.

"Ok, let's go find a flower costume."

12:00 p.m. (Saturday)

So I've spoken with the ballet instructor and she's given me instructions like it's a mid-term at MIT.  The shit stupid people get excited about.  We head to the mall, the most fantastic place on the planet.  Jesus Christ I'm pulling in and it's becoming reality.

"Ok daddy's little princess, let's go make you the prettiest flower ever."

Somebody please kill me.  Seriously, it can be torturous, I don't give a fuck.

We're walking into the mall and already a couple teenage fuck baskets with pants half off their ass are staring at us.  God damn, please just let me get through this.  I can hear these dick snack teenagers.

"Awww, look at daddy and his daughter."

"Awwww, look at the two queens in their girl jeans."

They shut the fuck up quick, stupid little midget dicks.  They'll probably grow up to be something great like the lead singer in a shitty band or lead some stupid cause with one of those dumb fucking coexist stickers on their Ford Fiesta.  I look down and Kaley is staring at me.  Fuck a duck, I'll have to explain myself later.  I'm sure of it.

12:30 p.m.

We made it through the maze of fuck hole retarded dick sucks populating this god forsaken place.  Fortunately there is a lady in the store who knows what she is doing.  Kaley is happy.  I think she looks beautiful but I am far from happy about shelling out $125 for a god damned tutu with a daisy attached to it.

5:00 p.m.

"Let's go, it starts at 7 and you need to be there by 5:30." I say.

Susan is being her usual bitch of a mother self.

"A daisy, pffft, great job."

"Thanks dear."

Why don't you remove your face from the local sausage factory once in a while and be a mother?  God, I hope you get some disease that kills you.

5:30 p.m.

I drop Kaley and Susan off.  Jesus, I guess she'll be a mother for once, good for her.  I'm going to the bar.  I need a couple scotches if I'm going to sit through a bunch of little accidents dancing around out of time.

6:30 p.m.

I arrive back at the recital.  I'm feeling nice after some glenlivits, glenlevitttssss, glen—fuck, I'm drunker than I thought.  God, look at all these five-year-old shitholes.  I go find our seats and they're obviously nine rows up.  Nine is sitting there grinning his pecker off because his seat says nine on it too.

"Hi Nine!"

"Hey daddy, look at my seat."

"I see that."

I give him a high five.  Jesus Christ, this kid.  I snatch the program out of his hand before he counts all the letters and finds some John Nash pattern that isn't a nine.  Breakdown avoided.

7:30 p.m.

Kaley is up on the stage and looks beautiful.  I look down and Timmy is counting his god damned fingers over and over.

I smack his hand and say, "Pay attention Nine, your sister is dancing."

Everybody claps.  Susan has some bullshit remark about how I didn't do something right picking out her costume.  Bitch.  Maybe she'll choke on something.

I stand up and start clapping when Kaley is finished and I forget to count my claps.  Apparently, I ended on seven, god forbid.  I have to do two more just so Nine will shut his cakehole and not sit in the floor rocking his god damn head back and forth.  I gladly pay the two clap penalty.

9:00 p.m.

Everyone is home in bed.  I go to tuck Kaley in and tell her how great she was.  She doesn't care, she's feeding her hamster.  I walk over to make sure Nine is brushing his teeth.  This kid is sitting there brushing nine strokes at a time with a shit-eating grin on his face, just content as can be.

I seriously just keep waiting for him to snap out of this phase but the shit isn't happening.  His god damn shrink put a nine on her door just for him.  I bet he can't wait for September to have a month long party in his room.  I put him in bed and now it's become a ritual to watch him fan the air with his sheets.

9:30 p.m.

I jump in bed while Susan is in the shower.  Fucking awesome, don't have to listen to her stupid cum catcher while I'm trying to sleep.  It's time to pretend to close the eyes.  Catastrophes avoided for the day, success.

Larry