My son started preschool today.  I understand at some point he shit himself; for as much as they’re charging I don’t feel bad about them having to change a diaper or two.  Or, like, underwear, I guess; he doesn’t wear diapers anymore, but saying that sounds better

That same son turns four on Sunday.  I bought him an awesome Transformer toy that turned out to be much more shoddily made than I would have expected, but he appears to love the hell out of it.

I also bought myself a toy tonight, only when I buy my son a “toy” it’s a cool Transformer, and I want to play with it as much as he does, and when I buy myself a “toy” nowadays it’s a god damn blood pressure cuff and I use it to make sure I’m not dying.

Yay.  Adulthood.

(My novels are still on sale!  Buying one will cheer me up.)