Nothing to See Here

the radio playing easy listening that made me want to slip into a hot bath and dream about killing everyone I knew.

“Who would judge you?” she asked. “Who do you know who’s done a good job? Name one parent that you think made it through without fucking their kid up in some specific way.”
“I can’t think of anyone right now,” I replied.
“There isn’t anyone,” she said, getting irritated, wanting me to be grateful, wanting to make up for whatever she had done to me.