Withering Ties

Dad says, “Can you believe it? Mom stayed up with Sil and Shelly till 11 playing Pinochle.”

I say, “It’s too bad Me Me, can’t score points by crashing around her grandchildren at a hard 7 without fail. But sucking off the fake news legend of her 2nd born 24/7 would suck me dry Dad. At this point, I’m positive you’re used to feeling like sloppy seconds in the relationship. I know you question how were related, join the club, but at least now at the height of Jonathan Gina Mania, 2 wrecked cars, and one narc gun blast later, you can identify with being the sloppy second one after all. I know you’re the only child and you became an A plus narcist to overcompensate for your cold, distant, 10 -blocks away mother in Queens who never offered to babysit me when I lived next door, surprise, surprise, but you get the gist. Still, can’t believe you can’t recall one nice thing my old maid Mosey would say after looking after me for 3 years in a row in Queens before you moved to the suburbs in Westchester, so I could have my own panic room to cry it out in. Because fuck the overrated school system in Edgemont, New York. You and every other parent who moved from Queens or the Bronx to the more snuggle soft confines of Westchester County, just moved there because in a house in the burbs, the buttressed cries despair are easier to bear.” Withering ties, Challah.

Thank you very much.

Michael Kornbluth

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