The Kid
Hugo is now one year old. He is going to live the whole two dad’s, two mum’s thing, thing his entire life, even if the two, actual, dads hadn’t been decided upon yet or, at least, are somewhere in his future. In his future, let’s hope the Christian’s shit their pants. (It’s always good to make the Christians shit their pants) “It’s good for them,” I said. “Have it confirmed for them yet again that most of the world couldn’t give a toss what they believe in.” “You are, kind of rabidly, anti-Christian,” said Ben. “Sadly, one has to be to counter their rabid Christianity.” “Now is not the time for anti-Christian diatribe,” whispered Natalie in a gruff voice. Ah Natalie? I don't make any effort with her. Sometimes it is like Ben and I have a son, Hugo, or at least it will be when he starts to connect with his surroundings and talk in full sentences. He’s a cute, happy little chap. He spends most of his time with his mother, and his dad time doesn’t generally include me. Oh yeah, I kno...