I used to look forward to saturdays. Long, slow breakfast with my beloved, hanging out, family stuff. Now it's often the day that I ponder my condition. Sleeping late holds no extra joy when I'm alone. Breakfast is rarely special, although on those days that one of the kids cooks I'm very pleased. (G is cooking right now. ..). Doing family stuff is hard with adolescent youth. They always want to do their own thing, reasonably enough.
I really want to go home. Patience.
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