Stealing from My Children
PLUS: fading memory, fatherhood regrets, the man with a train track in his garden
As a fully-grown adult man, no one buys me Easter eggs any more, and I was not prepared for how disappointing I would find this.
I could just go and buy one for myself, of course, but it wouldn’t feel right or manly.
As much as I am addicted to the produce of Cadbury’s and Mars, actually buying an Easter egg for mysel…
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