Advertising Paterfamilias with more than 40 mouths to feed. Sometimes floundering in a world of confusion and despair. Sometimes trying to turn fingernails into porcelain suction cups. Sometimes weighing decisions on which knife to stab into a competitor’s/friend’s back and whether the most suitable one would be one I could pull from my own.

Sometimes a good husband. Always a husband. Sometimes a good father. Sometimes great at both. I am the lucky one. I am the winner here. I try. I try hard.

Moody. Unfiltered. You’ll never have to worry about what I think about something - I’ll tell you. Pained with not being able to do that with those closest to me. Scarred, but healing. Protective. Nurturing, to a point, and then I’ll freeze it off without anesthetic.

Free to roam as far as my leashes will let me. I am the king of the yard, but the mailman, icecream truck, trashtruck and neighbor’s dogs come by my house daily, just out of reach. I’m chewing on my collar, but I will not leave the yard.