Personal Blogs

My maw and paw are approaching decrepitude. Still, they produce their works of art.

I don't remember at what age I realized that: as a pair, or singularly, my parents weren't normal. At some point I understood that my peer-group weren't being put through the same mill that I was. I also don't remember when I realized how blessed I was.

My mum and dad were entirely focused upon themselves and the things that they created. Coco and I were ignored until we had something sensible to say. Coco and I had such things to say early.

Someday Coco and I are going to have a conversation about our parents. I don't know how that will pan out. Actually I do, we are going to spoil them with the same benign neglect that they spoiled us with.

We love them enough to ensure that their lives will end with the same wondrous poise that they've lived their lives with thus far; dad will want to know something difficult that stumps me, mum will be retailing some scurrilous gossip, that I know a wee bit about.

They respected Coco and I enough to let us run feral, they can be comfortable in their dotage in that we will return the favour.

Coco and I haven't had children. In part that's because of the wives we have chosen; but it's also because we knew that we'd be needed to ensure that our parents had the perfect life.