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images Me: “Good morning family.” 6 year old child, running towards me: Bee Beeeeeee……huggieees. I lift her up, give her a hug, kiss her cheek, hear my mom (who’s visiting) say her aws, then put her down. After the good mornings I get on with the most important business of the day: making coffee. Her dad is focused on the girls’ breakfast. She runs off. A minute later she’s back with her heart locket. I know what it is. It was my damned idea. Early on, when she said how every time she goes to mom, she misses dad and vice versa, I’d proposed a heart locket with mom’s picture on one side and dad’s on the other. Now my brilliant idea was here to bite me in the arse. “BB, take a look at these pictures and tell me which one of these people you live with.” No thank you. It’s too early for me to stare at my arch nemesis. So, without looking I start to describe their dad. “The one who has short hair, long forehead.” “No,” she says. “You have to look carefully. And tell me all their differences, even the side of the necklace the person is in.” I am trying hard not to look at the left side. “Ok, here we go. I do my best to describe him again, this time including the side plus the fact that his side has the hook where the chain threads threw. I imagined the more detailed I get, the less questions she’ll ask. Phew. I’m ready to pour my coffee when… “Wait. Now describe the one do you not live with.” She holds up the pictures in my face. Jaysus, Mary and holy saint joseph. Seriously? “You have to say everything like the last time.”   Of course. I take a breath, glance at the face I was trying hard to avoid, probably think this sucks balls. And then begin to describe whom it is I’m not living with. Forget coffee. My fight or flight system could use a powerful sedative to calm down.