fuck.

Yo Dawg. Yeah. You know who you are.

So the day before one of the biggest parties of the year my babysitter informed me that she could stay until 10:30.

Yes. At 39, I had a curfew. Oh, did I say fucking curfew?
Not only THAT

Her dad walked her to our house. (2 doors down.) Did I mention we've been neighbors for SEVEN years? (Which is probably the reason for her dad's caution.)

We were due home at 10:30. We arrived home at 10:37 on account of PHF winning Best Male Costume for the second year in a row.

Guess who the fuck was sitting at our kitchen table waiting for us when we go home at TEN FUCKING THIRTY SEVEN IN THE EVENING???

Yeah, you got it. Mr. OverProtectiveDad, that's who.

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