Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

10:30 – summer camp calls, my son has fought with another kid and then kicked a counselor. I have to go get him (this is not his first offense, even if it is his first week).

So I have to wake the baby up, after a 30 minute nap and go get his sorry ass.

Yeah, this is so much fucking better than getting the lawn mowed before it hits 100 fucking degrees. It’s so nice to have a cranky pants baby that was shortchanged her nap (after spending nearly three hours at the goddamn brake shop). My three year old was already pissed that I wasn’t spending more time with him (“can’t the baby take a nap yet?”)

I guess we’ll save money on seeing Harry fucking Potter today, too.

One more offense and he’s out of camp for the summer. Yee ha. Guess he can just come to work with me, then. Never mind that it’s already paid for (no refunds, no exceptions) Where else can he go? Where else will he not fight with people? He won’t talk to me, won’t look at me. But an hour from now he’ll come around like nothing happened. “But dad, why CAN’T I play playstation all afternoon?” Cuz you fucked up and kicked a camp counselor. Over not wanting to take a five minute time out. Bad move, kid.

I’m pulling my hair out. This is so fucking not right, this whole week, this whole life. Nothing is happening right. I had to yank McAfee since it keeps crashing my computer when I reboot (will NOT boot with it installed). And I can’t even drink until my wife gets home from work (seven hours from now). Maybe I just won’t stop.

Out on the highway is one of those hundred and fifty year old oak trees. Too bad I just got the brakes fixed on the fucking car, the insurance company would never believe it was an accident.

Once more, for good measure: Fuck.