I just might find, I’ll be killin’ time for eternity.

I’m sitting at swim practice watching Tendereart and killing time before I have to go get Moonshine from work. My life is a series of waiting. And with waiting comes thinking. Awww, thinking. I hate it. I like it more when my head’s empty.

But first, Tenderheart’s swim teacher has a touch of something. I love him but he sounds a bit like a robot, he talks like he’s reading a script, he’s a yeller, and he doesn’t have a lot of social skills with the parents. With the kids, though, he can get down on their level and is incredibly good with them. One of the kids wasn’t listening and her coach just shook his head and started mumbling to himself while on the diving board. I want to be his friend.

I think a lot about the humans I’m raising. What kind of people are they going to be? It consumes me. Am I raising a sociopath? Can my goodness counteract the other half of their genes? I just want them to be hard workers and contribute to society. That’s not too much to ask, right?

She doesn’t look like a sociopath.

Oh my gosh, these swimmers have pushed this coach over the edge. He’s pacing and talking to himself. Probably a bad time to ask if we can be friends. It also looks like a bad time to tell Tenderheart I know what’s wrong with her butterfly.


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