I imagine that becoming a parent was a wildly different thing in like the 70s before giving a shit was invented. Everyone just supposed that everyone's gonna do it and you just have your first at 21 after getting married at 19, let them little shits loose outside all day while your husband is at work at the Forever Chemical Pollutant Factory and you're sitting at home drunk as hell breastfeeding the baby. Your eldest Little Ronny Douglas runs in at 9 pm like "hey ma I was crawling through the ditches at the abandoned mine field three towns over and I caught this frog and my friend Donny caught tetanus" and you're just like "yeah whatever that's nice dear" and tap the ashes from your cigarette on the bald spot on top his head. You don't know why that's there but it's been there a while and you've been using it as an ashtray for a few years and it seems fine.


















