Stepbro #2 swept into the family festivities today like a gust of...wait...not fresh air. Like a gust. Let's just leave it at that and leave the rest to your imagination.
Cinderella and I were sitting peacefully at one end of the patio when he swaggered over to us. He took a seat between we two, and in a move which put me in mind of The Rooster, proceeded to swig away at a giant bottle of Coke. I was astounded and moved to ask, "Are you being good?"
He looked at me, shoved the bottle under my nose hard enough to distend one nostril and ordered me to smell. I was nearly wiped out by the bourbon fumes. Admittedly, it has been a while since I've seen him: absence makes me sentimental enough to believe he's capable of any kind of responsible behaviour.
Then he proceeded to show me and Cinderella his latest tattoos. I didn't mind seeing the ribbony scroll up his side with little banners for the names of the kids he has already and a space for the one on the way, but his girlfriend's name elegantly arched over a brand new nipple ring?
Sometimes, the harder he runs towards us, the harder we run away.