The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
Right Back To It
I knew our two-day respite from the kids was officially over once we started loading them into the car-- I had to turn off the Howard Stern Show before the boys heard something they might repeat, and, once again, found myself struggling with my fucking nemesis . . . Ian's car seat, the belt never threads through cleanly and it constantly has to be pulled back in to release the mechanism that allows it to stretch long enough to reach the seat belt socket, which is difficult to reach because you're leaning over a child and the car seat, so even though I turned the Howard Stern off, the kids still heard things they shouldn't have-- but instead of coming from the satellite radio, they came from my mouth (and then to really cement our return to reality, Ian peed in his bed).
On the plus side, he probably peed the bed from the trauma of seeing his father so visibly agitated and hearing such awful words. He should only be scarred for a few years.
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