Friday, August 17, 2012

Keeping mum

An endless cycle of broken glass and wet beds. And more broken glass shards on the floor and more blankets stinking of stale pee.

The epitome of it all was the somewhat comical situation that occurred after a recent family visit with a mum, when one of the four brothers came back saying “Luke, I’m ten! I’m not nine. Mum said that I was born in 2002, and she said I’m 10!”

No you’re not, I say, I have a copy of your birth certificate.

Comical, if it wasn’t so desperately sad.

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