My urine looks like lemonade. I haven’t had any coffee this morning. My gut looks like a real person’s now. I am a dad.
I need to start flossing every night. I can do it, but in order to do it, I’m going to need to start brushing my teeth every night as well.
This experience of bringing a child to life has been taxing, and it has taken its toll on me, but I feel better thanks to my new haircut and shave. I went for the FBI, because it is the American version of a Nazi. But you already know that I’m on the case, just out of the woods and into another set of messes. I’ve got to be alive, active, and alert. I’ve got to be present. There is danger everywhere. We’ve got to survive. I’ve got to keep making money. That’s why I’m going in today. It’s a surprise my showing up like this. Nobody knows that I’m coming in. I kissed the wife and child goodbye. Told the dog that he’s the man of the house.
My thermos under my arm, I’m checking my hair the whole drive. I was part of the force again. I was one with the road. The traffic was backed up sixth. The construction never stops. First it’s one side, then it’s on the other, finally it’s both sides all the way down.
I’ve got to see that sweet girl, the second Musette. She’s been holding down the fort for me, taking the brunt of it from the boss. She’s there on the front line, behind the cash register, shooting down customers.
I’ve got big plans for that place. I’m ready to be a better part of the team. I’ve got to make the store my own. It’s success is my success. I’m a father now. I’ve got a family to look after. Funny to think how in two years this place is going to be a pile of rubble, says the accountant.