Excuse Me, While I Just Wrap Myself In The Floury Goodness

Standard

Ryan: Where are you?

Me: I’m sitting, alone, in the kids’ therapist’s waiting room, with my feet on the coffee table, eating warm tortillas out of a bag. Let’s hope no one walks in.

Ryan: Why, because they’ll want some?  Tell them to get their own damn tortillas.

Me: I’ll even share, motherfuckers!

Ryan: No, no, sharing…just stare them down.

Me: I think I figured something out.

Ryan: What?

Me: Why I have a kid in therapy.