Time Machine

You can go home again. You just may not want to.

Jessica’s still in Basel and I’m at my parent’s house on the Cape with the kids. And I found myself clutching the telephone trying to talk to my friend Bryan, screaming at my father because he was annoying me and not giving me privacy for my conversation. So I finally grabbed my lap top, screamed some more, and stormed off to the guest room, aka, “my room.” I slammed the door, my mom called out “What is going on?” I grunted and resumed my conversation with Bryan. Yea, I’m a 16-year-old again. Thrilling.

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