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HUMOR

My Daughter’s Bestie Went to Jail

I wish I’d gone instead

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The lock on a jail cell door.
Photo by Grant Durr on Unsplash

Day One

“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to the toys on my three-year-old daughter’s bedroom floor.

“I don’t know,” she said without looking up from the unicorn, whose mane she was brushing.

Eyebrows raised, I scanned the scene again. Charlene, the creepy doll styling head that my grandmother had gifted my daughter at Christmas, looked rather distressed.

Charlene being a twat again. Photo taken by author.

“What have you done with the number line squares? Made Charlene a house?” I asked, somewhat impressed by her structural engineering skills.

“No,” she replied.

I’m sensing a fuck off vibe.

“Alright,” I said as I slowly backed out of the room, hoping I’d have time for a quick two-hour nap on the couch.

“Mummy, play with me.”

I would but it’s really boring.

“Ok. Shall we build Charlene a bigger house?” I asked. “There are some more squ…”

“No,” she interrupted. “She’s in jail.”

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