instead of kisses, I get kicks
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2014.04.07
My daughter kicked me in the throat yesterday for asking for a kiss. I'd found her in bed, and we said our hellos and I told her I'd make breakfast. But when I asked for a kiss she simply lashed out with her tiny foot.
Recounting the story now, it reminds me of my attempts at dating.