From A Child Of Divorce: The Day Daddy Moves Out

A.J. — Tue, 13 May 2008 08:34:48 -0400

It was a Saturday; I remember the morning distinctly because that was when it happened. I was sat down in a big brown and cozy recliner and told by my Father that he was moving out, along with some cock and bull filler words. You know the kind they use to make bologna in those huge factories? Anywho, I guess you could call me a lucky sod; I slept almost the entire day! Lucky AJ! Not really.

It's a strange kind of feeling when you walk down the stairs after taking a four-hour nap, step onto the living room carpet, and suddenly you look into the book case and the orange Disney trolley complete with goofy, Pluto, Donald duck, Mikey, and Minnie is suddenly gone. It's even stranger when you therefore realize that you haven't looked at that trolley since you were eight years old. Then, as you walk down the hallway leading into the kitchen you notice that someone has removed your favorite hanging poem "Foot Prints" from the wall, and the nail that went along with it. It was then that it dawned on me that Dad was gone already. At first it was kind of Twilight-zoney, you know? But then I started to think and list off in my head everything that was gone. Suddenly, that trolley car meant more to me than all my limbs and extremities combined! And damn straight I wanted it back!! I'll have you know, I never got that trolley back.

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From A Child Of Divorce: The Day Daddy Moves Out