Yesterday my five-year old daughter chased her brother
with a spatula. I’ll kill you! she screamed. Where does she
get that? From the perverts on television. We don’t have a
television. Then from her mother and father bickering.
I’ve been a single parent since she was born. Then it’s the
school, you know what it’s like. But she’s home-schooled.
Then it’s the isolation. We live in a commune with
seventeen other families. Gypsies? We’ve never been so
involved. Then it’s the literature, look what kids read
these days! I only teach her math and science. Then it’s
easy: the rhetoric of the ruling political party sends a
message: this sort of behavior is acceptable. The
commune declared its sovereignty, there are no political
parties—I haven’t paid taxes in years. Then it’s the high
fructose corn syrup. Everything we eat comes straight
from the ground or the teat. No meat? No meat. Because
I was going to say it’s the meat. Couldn’t be. Then it’s
your religion. Don’t have one. Then it’s definitely your
lack of religion! She’s being raised Buddhist, no
obligations. Look, I didn’t want to say it: the girl needs a
mother. I’m a hermaphrodite. That doesn’t count. What
do you mean that doesn’t count! Come on. Why is your
hand touching my leg? I’m trying to help you relax, is it
helping? Sort of, I guess. But not really? Not really.
Listen. What. It sounds like you’re doing everything you
possibly can. You really think so? Yes.