Wecome to My World

As I pulled back the master bath’s shower curtain, it came undone from two of the hooks.  The metal hooks fell on the floor with a flourish.

My daughter was standing there impatiently waiting to get into the shower.  “Welcome to my world,” she says with a sigh, “that happened to me when I took a shower in here before.”

I recognize the expression.  I said it once.

She picked it up.  She had started to use it often. Ugh.

“Do you have it rough in your world?” I ask.  She says yes.

“How is your world so hard?” I ask.  “Well, you ground me sometimes,” she says.

I ask if there is anything else bad in her world.  She says no, not really.

“I guess I have a nice life,” she states.   I agreed adding that I also had a nice life.

“But Daddy doesn’t have a nice life,” she says seriously.  I ask what was wrong with Daddy’s life.

“Well, he thinks he is funny.  He tries to make jokes. He is not funny, ” she says somberly.

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