... there is currently an "incident" (with finger quotes) happening next door-slash-right outside our windows. I don't feel comfortable discussing the specifics of it right now so lets just say it has to do with alcohol and violence. Natasha has driven off with a relative in tow in a confusing fog of drama and bickering and I've been left here at home with the kids to try and calm them down and deal with the cops if they get called out here. Again.
I'm sorry, little Bela. I'm sorry, Emerald. I'm sorry that you've been born to lives of drama and poverty. I'm sorry that we're broke and I'm sorry that I don't have the enegry to clean this shitty ass house and I'm sorry we don't have money for food or toys or candy or video games and I'm sorry that you guys don't have the most loving relatives (the few that are AROUND are loving, at least) and I'm sorry that all I can do for you is put on Dora and act silly and make you laugh.
I wish I could do more for you. I really do.