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Birthday

  • Writer: Erik Austin
    Erik Austin
  • Mar 29
  • 1 min read

Yesterday was Archie’s birthday party at home, and I went over and had buttered rigatoni with Parmesan cheese and boiled shrimp—simple but good. My sister joked that we could call it pasta al burro e parmigiano to make it sound fancier. I bought Archie a blue lava lamp with the last of my money, just because I was happy to be invited—unlike so many times with my dad.

While I was there, I noticed a wheelchair in the garage and asked why it was there. My sister said it was our grandma’s but wasn’t sure why, and then my mom corrected her, saying, “No, it’s your dad’s,” and explained the reason. I don’t know—it just felt odd.

Meanwhile, my mom took Peace to the vet yesterday, and now this morning, she’s been whining and pacing nonstop. It actually reminds me of my grandma’s last days, which I won’t even get into. I feel bad for her, but there’s really nothing I can do.









































 
 
 

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