I confess this poem reminds me of my family situation right now:
Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse
They **** you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were ****ed up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.



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It's been awhile.







It's not like yours is a knockoff you bought in India or China at the night market for $5. Britax or not they have to pass safety inspections.


















