But not back then.“I’m kind of big to play sardines,” he suggested.“Yeah, but we need you. We only have seven without you, and it will be more...fun if you play too.”He looked at me for a long time, and I got this funny feeling in my stomach. I mean he was staring at me, not saying anything. It just felt different.“Okay,” he said, closing his book. “One game.”He went back to normal, by which I mean he just looked like Mr. C., instead of a guy staring at me. I took his hand and pulled him to. ” I say finally, with as much calm as I can muster. I never lose my cool like this… I am still pacing, but getting a handle on myself now. In many ways It is the Daddies fault when his boy fucks up, and I have to accept that he just needed more training.I go to a chair and settle in to it’s comfortable embrace… I sit for at least ten minutes without speaking, boy knows better than to speak first. At least the fuckhead has learned something.I am considering that this will be the last time we. More

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