It’s Haibun Monday over at the dVerse Poets Pub. Our prompt is birthdays.
No doubt about it, there are some couples who simply should not procreate. My parents were in this number. They probably should have dated for a while & called it good. But no, they had to take that ball and run with it — smack dab into a wall. From the first month it was a union fraught with peril, according to my mom. She knew she’d made a mistake, but hung in there anyway. Then she got pregnant and almost left my dad when she was three months along.
After I was born, things really got interesting. From what I hear, it was as though a live monkey wrench had been tossed into a clusterf**k. Dad had his heart set on a boy, so I was a disappointment right out of the chute. I did not deviate from this path, as Dad often pointed out. Mom was happy with me though. In the end, some mistakes cannot be undone, such as hapless slips of sperm.
Please, no cards or gifts.
forget cake and candles, too;
a day best ignored.
Ergo, the Ogre 
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