no_complaints tender_square my father is easy like sunday morning. it's a glitch in the mechanism, mostly because i am not my mother. i prepare a tiny white dish with an assortment of pills: a capsule of omega, a torpedo of vitamin c, a too-bright gummy with a multitude of nutrients. with a small whisk i mix tabby granules of fiber into a tall glass of cold water, and slide both across the island. he gulps without protest until the cup is clean, the doses swallowed. he rocks in an easy chair to fox morning news while ruby patiently lays at his feet waiting for breakfast. i keep his coffee mug filled and i tell him i love him. 230617 what's it to you? who go blather from