His rigid body was a cry for help. He struggled with getting even a single word out of his throat. But in time it came. ‘I… I’m sorry. I want t... go home. I hate drinking. I hate where I live. I hate you for leaving me, Lene. I hate you kids for growing up into shits and not coming over. And you, old man, I hate you for doing what I can’t. I want to stop. Every day I want it to end, but there’s nothing for me out there. My family doesn’t want me. But I want to go home. I really do.’ He stood. Thin Mints and Shortbreads are my favorites, but Samoas are pretty good, too.We did two weeks at Hougomont this winter break. The first week we invited Big Bob and Harriet down and took the kids with us. While there, we broke the news of my running for Congress to them, which certainly bamboozled them. While they were proud of me, they were also Democrats and I was a Republican, and therefore the enemy. We had several lively discussions over beers around the pool that week. At least they didn’t. Rabella returned home from work and soon wondered where Simon was. Checking her handheld computer for messages, she read Simon's terse email. At any rate, Bob decided that he'd have to try a few things with this delightful young thing to see for himself if girls had changed so much as her comments indicated."Let's ... reenact some of the things you've done," he suggested, "and I'll do what Phillip wants to do with you, and then you can see how you feel about it. How's that?"Becca nodded, almost violently. She wanted to know what it was like."How should we start?" he asked. His new moral attitude still wasn't settled in, and he felt.
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