Bad Influence
It seems my misanthropy is contagious.
I turned into the neighborhood to find the street lined with cars. Apparently, it’s the day of the Fall Festival, when people swarm the park to enjoy vacuous small talk and sketchy food safety standards.
My first reaction was a quiet sigh and a shake of my head as I slowed to navigate the crowds. To my surprise, my usually outgoing and happy son echoed me from the backseat.
I didn’t say anything, but it made me realize that I must exude this attitude like a virus. It’s shedding, as doctors say during flu season. An absolutely revolting image, by the way.
I’ve come to terms with my contradictions. I would do almost anything to help someone, but I also think our species should go extinct. It’s a delicate balance that I quietly maintain, with varying degrees of success.
The boy, though, he doesn’t have to live like this. What greater gift can we give our kids than to make sure they don’t end up like us?