There was a period of around thirty minutes last evening
when I realised that I didn’t like myself.
Homework had not gone well.
He was crying and saying he hated me.
I was screeching like the proverbial banshee.
The evening was saved for the both of us by
Him, and the consumption of beer.
A side note: I was asked over the weekend what it was like coping with a child with autism.
I was particularly direct:
(The Brainy One is abroad on business.)