And so he wears this little like dress thing, or whatwouldja call it, a hooded cloak or a cape sort of thing with his nails all painted and his lips stapled and his eyes blackened goin round the house callin himself the fuckin Grim Soul Eater or somethin. Now is that normal like? To be doin that? Lad his age? Could that be considered — second gear — by you now to be a normal aul thing? And be honest.

Cause he’s my son like, love him like, light of my life like, but sometimes, when I walk by his room at night — didn’t indicate — I’ll catch him starin himself down in the mirror, right, like this, right, gruntin, his jaw sort of stickin out his head half-sideways like this, right, and his neck bent into his chest like this — eyes on the road — like this, and I can hear him, you know, I can hear him, and he’s talkin under his breath — slow down — he’s talkin under his breath all to himself in what sounds to me to be like ancient fuckin Latin or somethin, I dunno, I never did a language in school, never had the opportunity, not like all the young crowd do now, you’re lucky — left here — you’re very lucky, because it wasn’t as easy for us to grow up back then, you’re blessed — clutch — you’re all blessed.

But it scares me like. It does scare me. Of how much I love him and I do love him now. It’s just the dress and the eye makeup and the plastic samurai sword he keeps in his belt, makes me feel like I don’t know him anymore — stop sign — like he’s growing up but in the wrong way, you know? And I feel helpless, but as his Da, I don’t wanna feel — ok tell me the speed limit here now, quick, come on, you’ve gotta know these ones off the top of the head like. Sixty? No, no, no, no. Thirty. In a residential area like this? Always thirty. Sure did we not only just talk about this a few minutes ago? You’ll fail for that. You’ll fail for that immediately in a test. Cop the head on now yeah, right, good lad. You’re a good lad — And he’s a good lad. He is. And it’s not like I’m disappointed in him.

No.

No disappointment. Sure each to their own is what I always — you’re veerin now, watch — say. But I just wonder, sometimes, could he not decide to be anythin else, you know? While there’s still time? Before he turns eighteen and the wife can’t anymore claim it’s a kind of phase. Before it’s permanent like.

Cause I love him, but, you know.

And I love him more than a man is meant to love his son. More than my aul fella ever loved me, that’s for nothin. Cause you’d go dry without the feelin wouldn’tya? Love. You know it. We all would. A beautiful little — JESUS FUCKIN CHRIST WATCH OUT FOR THAT DOG!