The sour reek of alcohol oozes from your pores
Red rimmed eyes, glazed from your ever more over indulgence. No wonder you stand away from me.
You arrive bearing gifts, from your weekend away, late
T-shirts, cheap rings, plastic toys that will break by tomorrow and candy
How generous of you to take the time to purchase presents for your children
Boozing, gambling and lap dances - this "stuff" should make up for your absence. I shake my head in disgust.
Then my daughter looks at me with those beautiful grey eyes and asks me if I'm jealous
I look back at her and smile "No honey, I'm not jealous." I leave worried and concerned unsaid
How long until they realise that these "gifts" are selfish substitutes for spending real quality time with them.
That soon he'll tire of playing the wounded, hard done by father, and settle quite comfortably in to the role of the confirmed bachelor.
I worry- How am I to raise well rounded, unbiased women, when the very first male influences in their lives treat them thusly
