And our civic duty
We voted together the other night.
They keep moving my polling station; it used to be right across the street then a few blocks north, then a few blocks east.
This time around, I thought it was at my kid’s school, but I read the address wrong.
Staffer: Sorry, you’re at another polling station – but it’s literally one block away.
Me: Oh, man…
Luckily, it was.
So, after a nice little walk – where we were accosted by people we didn’t know…
Them: Can we ask who you’re voting for?
Me: Nope.
…we found the right place, stepped in, did our civic duty, and high tailed it home.
Her: I think it’d be good for the kids to see us vote, or at least know we did.
Me: Agreed. Not enough people do it and we gotta lead by example.
Here’s hoping for some good news moving forward.

The kid’s never really cared about how he looks.
Until recently, that is.
When Alison was sick, and his hair got unruly, I just buzzed it for him.
Then Alison’s mom and he started having this nice little ritual where she takes him to get a haircut around her pad, which I find really sweet.
Unfortunately, with the exception of that brief visit the other day, he’s not really been able to spend much time with them to get a haircut with them so…I took him out for his first haircut (with me).
It affected me a lot more than I thought it would.
I suppose because it’s yet another first I got to experience, and Alison didn’t. Everything is bittersweet.
We can stop talking about that now.
Anywho, he picked out his hairstyle himself. You’d like it, I think.
He wishes he could grow up faster and I wish he would slow down.
Neither of us will get our way, which is probably how it’s always been with fathers and sons.
Him: What do you think, papa?
Me: You look great kid! Good choice. More importantly, do *you* like it?
Him: Yeah!
Me: Well, then that’s really the important thing, then.
Location: earlier today, getting stabbed multiple times in the back with a needle
Mood: ouch
Music: don’t wanna sit still, look pretty (Spotify)
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