The hardest part about losing your dad is when your mom just can’t be a grown up about it. It’s even worse when she tries to replace him.
I look at the glass-dad with the transparent head sitting on the kitchen table and I daren’t even come in so I can get my cereal. My belly’s rumbling as I look at the waffles going cold on the table, but I won’t touch them, because I know that its microscopic camera-lens eyes are looking at them.
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