I acquired a travel bag.

It’s well, first of all, free, and demeaning to the emphasised acquisition. HOWEVER, it strikes me that no one (my parents included) has any idea as to why I have acquired such resource in the first place.

You know wedding anniversaries? Yeah, they’re sort of this celebratory fiesta that marks oneness, union, salt and peppah in one shaker, of two wholly separate individuals. My birth giver and father have no idea that through that union came about the greatest gift they have and will receive in their entire united lives: me.

And my brother also who, because of pure love and generosity, will attempt to forego our fear of telephones and talking to strangers as we plan their week-long getaway in tropical paradise. I’m thinking sangria and palm trees, coconuts by the seashore, and sunset views of people’s swimwear behinds. They’re thinking more balcony room and iced cola because alcohol = vertigo, seafood fare at the buffet, and walks across the hulking interior, admiring and constantly admitting how incredible it is to finally be on a cruise ship 100% paid for by their begotten children.

Hashtag blessed.


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