This is about the day my parents  
died, but not that way.                
     Anyway, they actually dropped by  
like that a lot. Not to see if I wanted
chicken, or to check up on me, but     
mostly because they just wanted my     
opinion on some kind of debate they    
were having.                           
     It’s what they did instead of     
scream and holler, or worse, hit each  
other.                                 
     When they disagreed about some-   
thing, they’d debate the pros and cons 
of whatever that something was, and    
most of the time, it involved some kind
of off the wall comment my Dad was good
at making.                             
     They told me the rules, and how it
took more than a year, before they     
could even agree on those. Rules like  
* how long each could speak, acceptable    
sources, and a lot of crap like that.  
     Some of them were just silly,     
like the official name for a bathroom  
break was lunchtime. Why was that even 
a rule and why lunchtime? I never got a
real answer to any of those questions. 
     More times than not, I’d decide my
Mom was right, but sometimes I’d let my
Dad win.                               
     When that happened, he’d dance    
around, like he was some kind of King  
Shit of the world.                     
     Even so, we had to laugh, because 
the way he danced was funny. He didn’t 
really dance, but instead flopped      
around on his knees, while doing a com-
bination twist, crab walk and hallelu- 
jah cheer that always left us laughing 
hysterically on the floor.             



CHAPTER 1: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15th
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