Susceptible to temptations

After all, we are humans. We are susceptible to temptations. All the time. And try to kill ourselves on a regular basis. Poisoning ourselves with alcohol and dissing ourselves the next day. I do it all the time, forgetting that I am on the wrong side of forty and have nothing to show for it. The forty-long years gone in a snap! Like Thanos’ snap. Or Ironman. Or Noman. Or Human. And having two kids is not helping. I mean it’s helpful in the way it makes our lives more desperate. But it is not helping with work. Deep work. At all. Having two kids is worse than the internet. You are not even getting a decent dopamine hit with kids. And my elder daughter has found the sharp attention we give to her as she throws down things like a superpower and she uses it to her advantage. There are days when my wife would have loved to thrash the living daylights out of her daughters but she restrains at the last moment. Me, I unhelpfully walk away during this duress. Men are really lucky in the kid’s department. They happily slouch as they have nothing to do with their own kids. As if the kids’ monkey tantrums as pure female genetic code fallacies. But I knew surreptitiously that on the last trip on the motorcycle with the eldest throwing her goggles on the busy road, mid-drive, in irritation was just what I would do in such a situation. Maybe it’s my code. Or maybe, I just got an asshole of a daughter. The wages of sin. Hope the second one makes up for the first. Who the fuck said that daughters are angels!