I'm tired and writing short stories is so much harder and more time consuming than what I normally write. I call it "zen writing" because the fingers know what to type. That's a reference to zen archers who don't aim like normal people, they do say that the arrow knows where to go, though. I'm going to give you some random thoughts, slam down a shot of Nykill (I spell it like that because I hate the taste of the vile green crap) and go to sleep.
I love my kids. I really do love them so much it takes my breath away. Not so much around Halloween though, especially not when I'm trying to watch what I eat.
It's not even Halloween yet and the city has done a trick or treat thing in the park already. Because of that there is four bags of candy hidden in the hall closet. Why four you ask since I only have three minions? Simple, I go through the bags and get the propaganda, opened candy, and trash out then I go through the remains and take out the good stuff that my wife and I like.
I put an initial on the kids bags so they don't fight over whose bag is whose and the green bag is ours. We slowly dole out the candy as dessert. What ever the kids don't want or is around the house too long is given to someone in an office, they always have a bowl available to throw candy in.
I, on the other hand, walk by the closet and thinks, those chocolates are small, I can easily have two pieces and it won't mess up my diet. However, I walk by the closet I don't know how many times in a day.
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