Like the others, this day slipped by quicker than I could get a grip on it. Slippery as a fish. I got together with my three kids for a seafood feast to celebrate a birthday. All of them are maturing before my eyes. And me - greying, shrinking, fading - but with a little bit of humor and fuck-you-too in the mix. It was a pleasure.
The hostess who sat us at our table was beautiful and probably younger than my daughter (the oldest). She flashed a quick smile toward the eldest of my two sons (the tallest). He was acting too cool to reciprocate, I think, or maybe he didn't notice. But I had this feeling for a second, however absurd, of being passed over. Forlorn, I believe, is apt. But with a little bit of humor and fuck-you-too in the mix.
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