You, your wife and your 10-year-old son barged in front of me as I was waiting at the Disneyland train station in Tomorrowland. Your wife, who wore a knee brace and hangdog look of defeat, asked what you wanted to do next: Another ride? Lunch? Back to the hotel for a swim? You replied, “I don’t give a shit.” Your wife said okay. You said tomorrow you were going to Studio City. Your wife said she didn’t want to hang around in the Valley for six hours. You shot back, “Fine. I don’t care. I’m tired of your shit. I’m going to Studio City, and you can go the fuck home.” Your wife and son were quiet. They are used to you being a dick in public. I looked at your son’s sad face. Hey, kid, enjoy your vacation! Study hard. Get a part-time job. Be involved in a bunch of school activities. And when you turn 18, get away from your idiot dad.
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